


do you have a prom to the date?

by gravastellar (CoffeyTime)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Flirting, Dorks in Love, Enjoy!, M/M, POV Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Prom, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Vandalism, allura is the principal fight me, and im not changing it, but not enemies either so, i started writing this before the ages of lance's siblings were announced, small panic attack in the first chapter, this is very self indulgent, well not entirely strangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeyTime/pseuds/gravastellar
Summary: Discovering his romantic interest to be someone he was adamant to compete with in school, Lance struggles with asking Keith to be his partner to Prom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! this is finally going up after 5 months and counting. i'm hoping this only has 4 chapters to it but it's going to be long?? i hope you enjoy!
> 
> just as a quick heads up, there is a scene where Lance experiences a small panic attack near the end of the chapter. it begins at "Lance snaps back into reality" and ends at "He knew not to get his hopes up." it's not terribly explicit but i thought i'd give you a heads up in case you'd rather not read that part!
> 
> i'd like to thank [fractalphantom](http://fractalphantom.tumblr.com/), [drunkhyphen](https://drunkhyphen.tumblr.com/), and [randomperson917](https://randomperson917.tumblr.com/) for the help with the spanish / cuban slang used in this chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://gravastellar.tumblr.com)

Lance hefts the bookbag over his shoulders with a heavy sigh, closing his locker with a soft push. He leans against it and observes the floor, contemplating how the end of this year got to be so sucky.

“Alright bud, what’s going on?” Hunk closes his locker, a bag by his feet as he gives Lance his full attention.

They had been locker neighbors since the first year of junior high, and every year since they tried to get lockers relatively close to each other. This year they happened to get lucky and got to be neighbors again.

Lance makes a non-committal noise in the back of his throat, his eyes still downcast.

“Nyma turned him down,” Pidge comes up behind them with with a stack of books in her hold. “Apparently she,” she grunts, adjusting her books, “and Rolo are going this year.”

“I should’ve asked her the beginning of the year,” Lance groans, leaning his head against the locker. They literally only have a little over a _month_ left of school and then he and Hunk were going to be seniors. Seniors are cool and all, but they’re almost  _expected_ to attend prom.

Juniors have to pay to get in with a ticket, but he’s willing to do that.

He’s willing to make his junior and senior years special. Memorable.

And it’s not like he wouldn’t be great boyfriend or prom material. He’s pretty sure he’s got some lady out there who has made love-sick eyes at him; he just happened to wait until the very last minute when everyone already either had a prom date or had decided not to go this year, or even just go with their friends. Honestly, by the way things are going, he’d probably just have better luck going with his friends. Not like Pidge could come anyway, but maybe he’d get a dance or two from some girls. That’s bound to happen.

“Nah, buddy,” Hunk turns to Pidge and gestures at her to hand over some of the books, of which she gladly gives him one or two, or five. “Honestly she doesn’t deserve you. But, I do agree that you probably should have asked someone out near the beginning of the year. At least before or around winter break.”

Pidge nods, using her hip to help support the books as she fiddles with the lock. “Yeah, Lance. She doesn’t even hang around Rolo half the time from what I’ve...“ she grunts as she opens the locker and catches her books before they fall, “seen.”

Yeah, okay, but that wasn’t saying much. Pidge only ever ventured out of her normal class-library-class-locker-library-lunch-library-class-locker-class-library-home routine once in a blue moon so...

Hunk hums in agreement. “I’m surprised she even agreed to go with Rolo, to be honest.”

Lance’s eyes had wandered from observing the floor to lazily scanning the crowds of students walking past on their way to class. His eyes land on a pretty brunette with blue-dyed tips as she brushes her hair over her shoulder.

“Honestly she’s probably using him for…”

His heart does a little stutter and he can faintly make out Pidge’s fading voice and Hunk’s startled “Lance!” before he’s coming up to—

“Plaxum, hey,” Lance smiles, voice soft, either because he didn’t want people to overhear him and laugh at his inevitable luck at being turned down or for some other reason.

“Oh! Hi, Lance,” Plaxum hugs her book and returns Lance’s smile, making his heart beat a little faster. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He’s had a crush on Plaxum since eighth grade, and Hunk knows this. Hunk, who, right now, is probably hiding his face from the cringe-fest that’s about to go down.

“Hi…” Lance breathes, shifting his weight. His eyes roam around her face, searching for any kind of signal that this was bad timing—or bad anything, really—before coming to settle on her red shell pin in her hair. It sparkles as she tilts her head in a small chuckle.

“Hello,” Plaxum covers her mouth with her hand to stifle another giggle.

Lance swears he could melt on the spot after hearing her laugh. He doesn’t realize he’s still smiling like a lovestruck fool until she speaks up again.

“Was there… something you needed?” She leans against her locker, her hands folding over the book now held down at her waist.

Was there something he…

Oh right.

“Yes! Uh,” Lance looks around quickly before looking down at his feet and seeing that his right foot had come up behind his left ankle and was rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. He clears his throat and shifts his weight again.

Plaxum is so patient and kind, and doesn’t push Lance to continue. Her eyes flick away from his face and her expression shifts slightly before she looks around quickly and then back at Lance.

He notes the change and looks around and to see the crowd begin to thin out. People making their way to class as the transition time comes to an end.

“Ah, I was,” he looks back at Plaxum and she looks back, silently, a smile still on her face. “I was just… wondering… if you had a prom to the date?” His eyes widen, catching the mix up, but too late to fix it without looking dumb. “A _date_!” He gestures around with his hands. “ _To_ prom!”

Plaxum regards him with a fond smile and she grabs his hand with hers, her eyebrows turning up and pinching in the center in…

“I’m so sorry, Lance.”

There it is.

“Florona had already asked and, well, I said I would,” she squeezes his hand before retreating and leaning away from the locker. “But hey, I’ll save you a dance, okay?” She smiles and waves, turning around and heading off to her class.

Lance watches her go, the pit in his stomach just a little bit deeper.

“Tch, I’m sorry, Lance,” Pidge claps him on the shoulder as she passes. “Hunk, you guys still good for hanging out after school today?” She’s walking backwards because they only have about a minute to get to their classes.

“Might be a rain check today, sorry Pidge,” Hunk’s sympathetic voice wafts in somewhere to Lance’s right. A hand rests on Lance’s back and guides him in for a hug. “Hey.”

Lance sighs as he turns in Hunk’s arm, leaning against him as they start their trek down the hall.

“You know, getting rejected by these girls isn’t proof that you’re not worth anyone’s time. I think you’re just… unlucky with the timing.”

“Yeah, or maybe no one wants to go with me.”

“Bro, I would need more than my two hands to count the number of fond looks you get on the daily.”

Lance snuffs out a chuckle before it reaches his throat, exhaling through his nose with a pout. “Yeah, but that doesn’t help me in this point in time. Maybe if Pidge were to build a time machine… but then I’d have to kill my double and I don’t know if I could kill a face as handsome as mine just for a secure date to prom.” This scenario was kind of cheering him up, even though it was slightly morbid. At least Hunk was chuckling.

“Can you imagine, and I’m just saying imagine, me popping out of a classroom and jogging over to throw a chair over my double’s head so I could ask Shay out in a more put-together way?” He’s nearly bent in half laughing.

Lance lets himself chuckle, as hollow as it still feels, and indulges in the crazy idea. “Or me, two days before prom looking like a hot mess, running out of this ripped hole in space-time just to grab Jenny or Plaxum before they could get with someone else.”

Hunk slowly rights himself and sighs the last chuckle out of his system. “What a thought, haha.”

They continue walking again in heavy—but short—silence.

“Listen, I got a deal to make with you.”

Lance hums, fingers digging into the straps of his backpack.

“If you don’t get a date to prom, I’ll go with you as your date, alright?”

Lance smiles, but it doesn’t reach. The pit in his stomach is just bringing his whole mood lower for the day. He appreciates his best friend’s commitment, but…

“Don’t do that to yourself, man. I know you wanna ask Shay, and I don’t wanna ruin that for you just because I couldn’t find a date in time.”

Hunk waves his free hand in the air, other slung over Lance’s shoulders. “It’s what best bros are for, right?”

Lance huffs a small laugh and brings a hand around Hunk’s back in a half hug. “I love you, buddy. Seriously the best.”

That seems to satisfy Hunk as he claps Lance’s back with his hand and branches off to his classroom with a wave.

Lance contemplates just skipping this next class but pushes through and saunters through the door just as the bell rings. He takes his seat in the third row back, letting his bookbag slide off his shoulders and under the desk.

He slumps backwards in his seat, one hand shoving in his jacket pocket and the other resting on the desk. He immediately starts spacing out as soon as the teacher starts talking but tries to tune back in when he writes things on the board just to take a few notes.

He digs into his backpack and pulls out his Social Studies binder, opening it to the next free page to lazily copy the notes his teacher was so kindly writing on the board for him. He props his elbow up on the desk and supports his head in his hand as he waits for the teacher to stop talking and trying to engage the class. Sighing, he sweeps his gaze around the room at the few seats in front of him, eyes landing on _that guy_ in the red hoodie.

 _That guy_ that he absolutely can’t stand.

 _That guy_ that gets perfect grades and praises from the teachers.

 _That guy_ that gets all the freaking attention from all the girls.

Every _single_ one.

Some of the girls Lance had managed to ask aside from Plaxum, Nyma, and a handful of others happened to be trying to get their hands on him anyway. God he wouldn’t even say his name, even in his thoughts. He didn’t know if that was because he was just so repulsed by the guy or if he was maybe…

No. No way was he any type of jealous toward _he-who-shall-not-be-named_.

And, yes, he refuses to say his name.

...

He will anyway.

_Keith._

Keith _freaking_ Kogane.

Him and his stupid hair. How the heck is that _mullet_ even that attractive?

“Mister McClain, is there something you wanted to share with the class?”

Lance snaps his attention back to the teacher, sitting up a little straighter. “Uh, no? Sir?”

Half of the class was looking at him and he was so confused. They weren’t just looking they were… they…

His eyes widen as he slaps his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks get warm. He curses mentally and prays his skin tone hides the blush he’s sure he’s sporting. His eyes dart over to Keith to see he was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. His gray-blue-purple-whatever color eyes regarding him in curious judgement. His hair is swept in front of his eyes and really frames his face nicely.

He didn’t really… say that out loud… did he?

He drops his gaze and props his elbow on the desk, his hand up and shielding his peripheral from the guy’s gaze. The teacher gets everyone’s attention and goes back to giving out notes, and he could feel Keith’s gaze linger on him.

He was not having the best time today.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance waits until he is nearly the last one in class. The bell rings and as usual, everyone shuffles out as quick as they could. Lance couldn’t blame them, this _was_ the last class of the day.

He finally stands when just a few stragglers and himself were the only ones remaining. Shrugging his backpack on and pulling out his phone, he makes his way to the door only to catch a glimpse of red hoodie, sleeves bunched at the elbow, black satchel across his chest, hair up in a ponytail now—

Wait.

His eyes narrow, hands pausing in an attempt to plug in his earbuds, and takes in the sight getting closer to him.

A sight that was growing a little concerned. Then pensive. Then peeved as Lance continues to stare.

“Lose someone who looks like me?” Comes the snarky question, scowl in place as Keith shoves his shoulder into Lance when he passes. “Tch,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks through the door.

Lance stares at the spot red hoodie was in before he shouldered him, eyes still narrowed, eyebrows pinched in the center, frown in place. He’s processing a lot at the moment.

Like how a tattoo peeked out from under the hoodie’s right sleeve. Like how his hair was pulled back into a slightly messy ponytail. Like how, because of the ponytail, he noticed three piercings in his left ear. Like how his eyes were actually gray-blue, and how they were the most beautiful color he’d ever seen.

Like how his heart had sped up and stuttered when Keith came into his personal space to shoulder past him. Like how he let out a breath through his parted lips that he didn’t know he was holding. Like how his heart felt like it was in his throat and he could hear the subtle _bu-bump bu-bump_ in his ears.

Lance blinks and walks out the door, taking a couple steps into the hallway, and looking around for a red hoodie. He spots a lot of red, but no messy-mullet ponytail.

“Huh…”

He slowly walks back into the classroom and walks up to the teacher’s desk, where he sits at his computer typing away.

“Mister Jones?”

“Yes, mister McClain? I have to say,” he continues on, not pausing long enough for Lance to get in a word and not glancing up from his computer. “I’m a little shocked by that outburst earlier,” a ding from the computer and a whoosh of air sound effects is heard as mister Jones sends off an email. He took off his wire-framed glasses and leans against the desk a bit. “Is there something going on?”

Lance takes note of his eyes, how tired they look. The small amount of dark moles under his eyes, right above his cheeks, standing out against his dark skin. The way he seems to be genuinely concerned for Lance in this moment rather than let on just how tired he was. Lance really admires this man, and although he did have something troubling him now—much different than with the outburst earlier—he didn’t want to burden his teacher with something like that. Not this close to the end of the year.

“I just, ah, wanted to apologize for that outburst earlier is all. It was very uncharacteristic of me, and I apologize,” Lance lifts his hand to run through the hair at the base of his neck, scratching a few times before letting it fall to his side again.

Mister Jones stares at him for a couple more seconds, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

“Lance, I want you to know that if anything is bothering you, you can come to me, alright?” He smiles, sitting up a little straighter and getting ready to turn to his computer again. “You’re one of my best students and I love seeing you succeed, both in life and school. But if something is bothering you and you feel like you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you, alright, bud?”

Lance’s eyes widen before blinking rapidly. He’d gotten praise similar to this from teachers before, but, none had offered to be an ear for his problems.

“Th-thank you, sir. I… appreciate that,” he looks down and smiles sheepishly with a nod.

“Alright. You have a good weekend, Lance.”

“You too, mister Jones,” he smiles over his shoulder with a wave, walking out the door.

Almost immediately, he feels his thoughts begin to wind and twist, swallowing his mood and reminding him he has a problem he needs to solve.

He plugs in his earbuds and puts the right bud in his right ear, upside down, and hooks the wire around his ear. He walks to his locker in a slight daze, again, and meets up with Hunk and Pidge who are in a conversation about homework or something. Maybe science-y. They both love science.

“Hey, bud. Feeling any better?” Hunk closes his locker with a gentle hand, eyes focusing on his best friend.

“Mm…” Lance’s eyebrows are pinching in the center and he’s biting the inside of his cheek, because honestly? “No, not really.” He opens his locker and shoves his bag in, not caring to take anything home, per usual. Every homework assigned to him normally gets completed in class or during the day. He rolls his eyes after a moment and grabs his Social Studies textbook as an afterthought and pushes his locker door close.

Whatever that was in the classroom had faded into a small knot in his chest and he couldn’t place it. He was feeling different than earlier, a weird feeling replacing the pit in his stomach. He has no idea what this is and it sorta… makes him angry.

Why does it make him angry? It couldn’t be jealousy. What was there to be jealous of with a mullet like that? Sure, Keith gets a lot of girls fawning over him and he pays them little to no attention, doesn’t even humor them, but Lance doesn’t outright care. He only cares for a handful, secretly— _fondly_ —dubbing them ‘The Future Missus McClain.’ He can’t really complain about the mullet either, because, yeah, he could see the appeal now that he’d seen it up in a ponytail.

He turns around and leans against his locker, letting his head thump back against the cool faded-blue metal. He rubs a finger over the spine of the textbook rhythmically, pondering over what this stupid feeling is. It doesn’t exactly feel bad, just foreign. Like his body knows what to do but his mind is having trouble processing.

And that… makes him a little unnerved.

_Angry._

Hunk is staring at Lance as if he wanted Lance to continue, and when he never does…

“Pidge,” he looks around Lance at the figure squatting at her locker, pushing ‘essentials’ into her backpack. “You still okay with us coming over later?”

_Confused._

With one final shove, she lets out a triumphant “hah!” and zips the pocket close. “Of course,” she stands, adjusting her glasses, and slinging the heavy bag over her shoulder, staggering with the momentum. “Normal movie and game night? Or did you want to throw in some studying for once?” She flicks her eyes to Lance and then back to Hunk, shrugging.

_Scared._

Lance can see Hunk shake his head. “You can ride with me, Pidge.” They all begin their slow walk to the school’s exit.

_And nervous._

He falls in step with Hunk, a habit every band kid has, vaguely tuning in to Pidge and Hunk talking about something, but mainly delving back into his thoughts. It hits him the exact moment his music rolls into the next song.

_“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off…”_

He pauses in his steps and he looks around the parking lot before regaining his footing, waving a hand at Hunk who looks back at him, ready to slow down and help him catch up. Hunk smiles and goes back to chatting with Pidge. Lance takes that moment to really think about what just dawned on him.

He likes Keith.

That has to be what this feeling was.

His body practically vibrates and he has goosebumps pop up on his arms for a second. He looks back at the school briefly before back at his feet. He rolls his shoulders, trying to shake the feeling crawling under his skin as they come to a halt at his silver Corolla, the blue circlet of fake flowers hanging from the rear-view mirror.

He notices his face is a little darker in the windshield’s reflection and quickly busies himself by opening the passenger’s door and tossing his book in. He takes a second to breathe before turning to face his two friends with a weak smile.

“So, do you guys want me to grab anything from my house or are we going straight to Pidge’s?” He can hear a slight pitch up in his voice and prays that neither of them catches onto it, clearing his throat.

“Pick whatever you wanna bring, man. No rush getting there since it’s the weekend,” Hunk smiles and waves. “We’ll see you there, alright?”

He nods and fishes in his pocket for his keys while Hunk and Pidge make their way to Hunk’s yellow Ranger. He slides into the drivers side and starts the car, hearing it turn over once and sighing, cranking it again. It sputters to life and he lets it idle while he pulls out his phone to call his mom.

It rings about twice before his mother’s chipper voice picks up with her usual fond greeting, followed by a couple questions about school and his friends.

“ _Hola, mamá_ ,” he rolls off in what he hopes is his usual cheery self. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Oh, what is it now?”

He looks around to see the parking lot was basically empty now and he puts the car into gear finally, making his way to the exit.

“I’m gonna be hanging out with Hunk and Pidge—”

“Yes, yes.”

He turns out of the parking lot and pulls up to the four way stop intersection. Technically, he could have picked up his two siblings at the junior high across the street, but they took the bus home today.

“I was wondering if you could, uh—”

“ _Dale, mijo,_ spit it out!” She is always one to prefer to be blunt about things and often interrupts family members when they take too long—or what she considers too long—to get their words out.

“Do you happen to have some leftover tamales I can take to Pidge’s? You remember how much Hunk loved your tamales?”

He can hear her huff and mutter something about only using her for food before her voice becomes clear again.

“Only if you take your sister to her friend’s.”

He groans. “ _Mamá…_ ” _If she wants to go to her friends, then why did she take the bus home…_

“ _No te quejas_ _, mi_ _corazón_.” He can just picture her pointing at him with her stern expression, making him shiver at the thought.

“Ugh, fine. But she better be ready when I get home.”

“She will. Hurry home. I’ll have tamales enough for twenty of your friend.” Lance knows she probably isn’t kidding either.

“Ok. _Gracias_. I’ll be home soon.”

“ _Adiós_ , _cariño_.” He hears the fond affection in her voice and he smiles, saying goodbye and pocketing the phone.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t live terribly far, but not close either. Just outside the city limits, but it’s a small town so it’s not like he’s driving for half an hour before he gets home. He makes relatively good time, actually. Probably has to do with him waiting so long to get out of school that everyone has already gotten home by now.

He takes the time to briefly touch on the revelation he had about Keith earlier. They have been in the same year since junior high, and almost all the same classes. Every time they have exams or projects, Lance always comes out second and Keith would always— _always_ —come out top of the class. He pushes Lance’s buttons with how nonchalant he is about his grades or where he stands in his class.

At first, Lance admired him and wanted to be his friend. When the first few times at trying to befriend him failed, he resorted to taking Keith on as a rival. He continues to push himself and continues to challenge Keith, not that Keith seems to notice.

That rivalry has really weakened over the years and Lance is more or less jealous now. To be able to be that flawlessly good in class and just generally carefree about his grades is what Lance admires about him. Admires and envies.

This year they happen to only share one class. Lance finds himself at the top of every class aside from the one they share. He finds himself staring at the back of his head a lot during that class. Finds himself making less fun of Keith this year.

He’d never figure it’d be because he’s developed feelings for the guy.

He shakes his head and focuses on driving.

He pulls into the driveway and lets his car idle for a moment, picking up bits of trash off his floor before turning it off and heading inside. He sets the keys on the kitchen island and gawks at the three tupperwares already filled with tamales.

“ _Mamá!_ That is more than enough, we aren’t feeding an army! Just me, Hunk, and Pidge,” he looks a little closer and mutters to himself “ _cuánto?_ ”

“ _Mi Vida_ ,” she turns from her spot at the sink, “it is plenty.” She rubs her hands on her apron to dry them off while she approaches him. “How long are you going to be staying over there?”

Lance shrugs a shoulder before turning to greet her with a kiss and a hug. “Do you know where dad is? My car’s acting up.”

“ _No sé_ , probably out in the yard?”

“ _Gracias,_  I’ll check.” He steps out of the kitchen, but not before grabbing his keys.

“ _Cuidate_ ,” he hears his mom call after him, shortly before calling for his sister—Veronica—to come downstairs.

He walks out the back and finds his dad in the shed. “Hey, dad?”

“ _Coño_ —” a crash, followed by his dad’s head popping up on the other side of the beat up pickup truck, lets Lance know exactly where he is. He’s rubbing the top of his head, hissing. “What is it, Lance?”

“Hey, my car keeps sputtering and taking a couple tries for it to crank up. Think you could help me with it when I get back from Pidge’s?”

His dad wipes his hands on a grease towel and rounds the pickup truck, sighing. “I was just thinking it might have been time for a tune-up soon,” he nods. “I’ll show you how to do all that when you come back, son.”

“Thanks, dad. Do you want some water?” He backs out of the workshop, waiting on a response.

“Nah, I’ve got plenty here. Have fun over at your friend’s.”

“Alright. _Chao_.”

He jogs back to the house and runs upstairs, passing Veronica on the way and sticking his tongue out, laughing when she sticks hers out in return. He turns into his room and packs some movies and his laptop into his spare bookbag.

He hurries down the stairs to where Veronica is sitting at the couch on her phone. He flicks her ear and jumps out of the way when she goes to swipe at him. When she misses, she growls.

“ _Mamá!_  Lance flicked me,” she shouts, rubbing her ear as she stands.

“Lance,” comes the reprimanding shout.

“Tch, _Chivata_ ,” he mutters at his sister, sticking his tongue out in response to her sticking hers out, again. “ _Chao_ , _Mamá,_ ” he calls as he opens the door and starts to walk out before turning around and running into the kitchen, grabbing the tamales, and scampering back out.

“Whose house am I taking you to?” Lance asks, dropping the bookbag in the back seat and placing the tamales next to it.

“River’s.”

“Where do they live?” He slides into the driver’s side and buckles up, turning the keys and breathing a sigh of relief when it starts up without a problem.

“Four blocks that way,” she points out her window and resumes whatever game is on her phone, probably fortnite by the sound of it.

“Hm,” Lance rolls his eyes and backs out the driveway. He throws it in drive and drives off in that direction. When he comes to a stop sign, he pulls out his phone and plugs it up to the aux cord and hits the next button on his favorite spotify playlist.

_“Thirsy thirsty Thursday!”_

Veronica rolls her eyes with a smirk as the yodelling picks up before going back to her phone as the music comes to life through the speakers.  _Thirsty_  by AJR coming through, loud and clear.

“You have horrible taste in music.”

“You have _no_ taste in music, Ronnie.”

“Don’t call me that,” she swings her fist at him, grazing his shoulder.

He pulls up to the house and drops her off, Veronica muttering a ‘thank you’ under her breath.

“Mhm,” he responds, taking a moment to text the group chat with Hunk and Pidge.

**_hey, omw now. had to drop off ronka._ **

_Take your time dude. -_ _H_

 _who is ronka -_ _P_

 _Veronica. -_ _H_

 _oh -_ _P_

Lance pulls out of the driveway and makes his way to Pidge’s. She lives a bit further than Hunk from his house, so it takes about fifteen minutes to get there, give or take with traffic.

He contemplates on the drive over if he should tell them about his feelings for Keith or to just keep it to himself. He ponders about the consequences before realizing the most he has to worry about is Pidge teasing him about his little crush. Nodding along to _Talk Too Much_ , he decides he will tell them tonight.

 

* * *

 

The Holt’s house isn’t big comparing it to the houses around it but comparing it to Lance’s and Hunk’s, it was practically a mini-mansion. The whole family seems to be home, the driveway packed. He pulls up on the side of the road and parks, not worrying about being in anyone’s way because it was a neighborhood.

He fishes his things from the back seat and makes his way to the door. Carefully holding the tupperwares in one arm, he rings the doorbell, listening to the barking of Bae Bae. Matt answers the door, eyes lighting up when he sees who it is.

“Hey man, come on in! Oh, are those…?” He steps out of the way, eyes sparkling with interest at the tupperware.

“Yeah, mom had some tamales left over so she packed them up for us. You’re welcome to—”

Matt grabs a box and makes off with it as the door closes behind Lance. “Pidge! Lance is here!”

Bae Bae runs up to Lance and sniffs and barks at him, tail wagging happily before following Matt into the kitchen. Pidge peeks around the corner from the door to the basement.

“Glad you made it. We’re down here already set up.”

Lance moves to follow her down the stairs. “He’s still calling you Pidge, too?”

“Old habits never really die. Especially sibling habits, you know how it is.”

“Oh boy do I.”

They come to the bottom of the stairs and Lance sets his bag down by the couch. “Hey, Hunk, look what I got.”

Hunk sits up from the couch and immediately lights up. “Yes! I _l_ _ove_ your mom’s cooking.” He gets up and makes grabby hands for the tamales. Lance laughs as he passes one to him.

“Pidge? You want one?”

“Nah, I appreciate it though. Just not terribly hungry at the moment.”

“Fair enough.” Lance moves to the table and sets down the other box before making for the couch. “What are we doing then?”

“Well, Hunk and I were doing our lab homework while waiting on you but now that you’re here,” she shuts her laptop and slides it under the couch so it wouldn’t get stepped on.

“Movie?” Hunk plops down on the other side of Lance, propping his feet up on the beat up coffee table in front of them.

“Sounds good. I brought some movies in case we couldn’t pick anything available on netflix,” Lance offers, bringing his legs up to cross them in the seat. “Also I wanted to tell you guys something.” He feels his heart rate start to pick up, anticipating the reactions from his friends.

“Yeah?” Hunk turns to him, one arm on the back of the couch and one busy with a tamal.

Pidge is busy hooking up the PS4 but gives a small noise to signal that she is listening.

Here goes.

“Well, you know how Keith and I share Social Studies together?”

Pidge hastily plugs in the HDMI cord to the TV before turning in her spot on the floor to face Lance, holding back a smirk.

“W-what’s that face for?” Lance bristles a bit, feeling his face warm up.

“Nothing,” Pidge shakes her head before considering something, her mouth opening a couple of times. “It’s just,” she smiles, “you’ve never opened talking about Keith like that. It’s usually ‘you guys will never guess what that…’ that… what was the word?” She gestures out with her arm, searching for the word.

Lance blushes more and rolls his eyes as he mutters, “ _Pendejo_.”

Hunk laughs. “So what, what did he do this time?”

“Well, he didn’t really… do anything. Just,” he breathes, “I realized I might, you know, have a… I might like Keith.”

Pidge adjusts her glasses with a disappointed hum before turning back to boot up the PS4.

Hunk lets out a small chuckle.

“What?” Lance feels his face burning, having his confession out there and no one commenting on it. He doesn’t know how to really feel about that. Upset? Relieved?

A bit of both?

“I mean that’s great and all, but haven’t you been crushing on him for a while?” Pidge stands, finally done getting the PS4 set up and sitting back down on the couch next to Lance.

A bit of both.

How did they know before he did?

“N-no! I used to hate his guts!” Which, was false, but Lance isn’t going to admit to that. He purses his lips, feeling his ears get hot. “Whatever!” He leans back into the couch, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Okay then, what are you going to do about it?” Hunk questions.

Lance thinks about it, rolling the corner of his top lip between his teeth. “I don’t know. You guys think he likes boys?”

Pidge makes some sort of a snort before humming. “Yeah, I’m willing to bet he does. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him ogling Rolo,” she pulls up the netflix app and turns in her seat to face Lance and Hunk. “Bet he was pretty upset Rolo went and asked Nyma to prom.”

Lance huffs. So that explains the reason he was more distant today than usual.

“Did you want to try asking him to prom?” Hunk nudges Lance’s knee.

“I don’t know, doesn’t he hate me?”

“Are we still talking about Keith?” Pidge pipes up with a disbelieving chuckle.

“Yeah? We had that rivalry in junior high?” Lance sits up and gestures out in the open. “I tried making friends with him a couple times and he blew me off each time!”

“You think maybe he was just as nervous as you or probably bad at social interactions?” Pidge raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

Lance blinks at her. No, he hadn’t, actually. He sighs, leaning back against Hunk, who drops his arm from the back of the couch to pat Lance’s arm.

“Why don’t you invite him to our study session next monday after school?” Hunk offers, a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure a guy like him studies a lot when he gets home, and studying is always better with friends.”

“Friends…” Lance mutters, thoughts jumbling around the thought that Keith might actually not hate him. He feels his heart pick up again, the possibility of being friends—maybe more if things go right—with Keith…

“Okay so, how do I _do_ that?” Lance frowns. “How do I just ask someone who I haven’t really _talked_ to out to study with friends?”

“Just ask him. The worst he could say is no.” Pidge readjusts and pulls the controller back into her lap.

He feels Hunk nod and pat his arm again. Lance sits up to let Hunk up to get another tamal.

“It’ll work out buddy,” Hunk hums from the table.

Lance nods absently, pulling one of the pillows to his chest as Pidge scrolls through and selects a movie.

He’s not paying attention to the movie at all as he continues to formulate a plan about how to ask Keith into his small circle of friends.

 

* * *

 

It’s Monday.

His heart is in his throat again, nervously tapping his foot under the lunch table. He has a couple of classes to figure this out, so why is he so nervous about this?

He spent the whole weekend with Hunk also trying to figure out how to ask him and he was no help.

“Just ask him, Lance,” Hunk had groaned. “Trust me. He will surprise you.”

And Lance wanted to believe that so badly. He wanted to believe that it’d just work out like that, but he couldn’t brush the feeling of dread and shame balling in his stomach, getting ready for release. Getting ready for the inevitable turn-down. The inevitable point and laugh. The ‘I’m sorry I’m already going with someone’ or ‘I’m not interested in going this year.’

He scoops up a fork-full of horribly overcooked mashed sweet potato that the school decided was healthier than regular fries. He groans and gets up to put his tray away, accidentally backing into another person as he takes a step away from his table. He hears Hunk gasp and then start coughing.

Raising an eyebrow at Hunk, Lance turns around, ready to apologize to whoever he bumped in to. “Oh, sorry man—”

The rest of his sentence dies on his tongue as he sees Keith standing there, hair back in a ponytail again. He’s wearing red framed glasses and holding a textbook and seems to be on his way to the library. He’s wearing a faded Nirvana t-shirt, black skinnies with holes at the knees, and red converse. Lance can see his tattoo clearly now that it’s not obscured by the hoodie.

He watches in curiosity as Keith raises an eyebrow at Lance’s shirt. He feels himself grow warm, glancing down at his own black shirt with ‘Icy Queen’ in fancy silver writing. His white pants are bunching slightly at the top of blue tennis shoes.

Redirect attention.

“Oh my god, is that a death eater tattoo?” Lance points, his eyes lighting up, completely forgetting his impending doom asking Keith to hang out with them after school.

Keith’s eyebrows lift and he flicks his eyes down to his tattoo and back to Lance. “Yeah?”

“Dude, what’s your house?”

Keith reaches up to slowly take off his glasses, looking Lance up and down not-so-subtly. “Gryffindor.”

Lance’s face screws up before relaxing and nodding. “Okay, yeah, I can see that.”

Keith waits for a minute before shaking his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “You?”

“Oh! I’m Hufflepuff.”

Keith snorts before letting out a small, quiet chuckle. “Seriously?”

Lance frowns, setting his free hand on his hip. “You got a problem with Hufflepuffs?”

“Didn’t expect that, is all,” Keith smiles, kind of lopsided, not exactly a smirk but pretty similar. Lance feels his heart skip, swallowing.

“Uh, are you on your way to the library?” Lance asks, shifting his weight.

“Yeah, why?”

“Ah, mind if I tag along?”

“Um… sure, I guess.”

“Okay, cool, uh…” Lance looks down at his tray. “One second.” He turns around, walks over to the window where kitchen staff takes dirty trays, and disposes of his tray. He thanks them and makes his way back to where he left Keith, who is leaning against the pillar, watching him. He feels his cheeks heat up and prays it didn’t show much.

“Good luck, buddy,” Hunk thumbs up at him when he passes and Lance makes a nervous face at him before joining Keith.

“So what are you studying there?” Lance points at the textbook in Keith’s hold.

He holds it up for Lance as they start their walk to the library. “Aerodynamic engineering.”

Holy crap.

“Woah, do you want to be a pilot or something?”

Keith huffs a small chuckle. “More like I want to build my own plane and stuff.”

“Dude, that’s so cool,” Lance exhales, awestruck.

“It’s…” Keith blinks at him. Lance notices his cheeks turning a little pink, blue-gray eyes searching his own face. “It’s… okay I guess…” Keith turns his head so his face is out of Lance’s view as they come to the doors of the library.

Lance reaches out and holds the door open for him. Keith mutters a small ‘thank you’ and Lance responds with a hum.

“So is that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

“What?” Keith looks back at him, both making their way to an aisle of textbooks.

“Build planes.”

“Ah, no. Well, I suppose I’ve always wanted to build stuff. Built my own computer. Laptop. Motorcycle—”

“Oh man, you have a motorcycle?” Lance’s eyes practically bug out, unable to really process that this eighteen-year-old built his own motorcycle. “You don’t drive it to school though?”

“Yeah and no, Shiro won’t let me.”

“Shiro?”

“My…” Keith pauses, hand midair to grab a book, clenching and unclenching before resuming to grab the book. “My adoptive brother.”

“Oh, is he like over-protective or something?”

Keith looks at him, confusion written clearly on his face.

“What?”

“You didn’t comment on the fact I’m adopted?” Keith sounds dumbfounded.

“No? Why would I?” Lance starts to feel offended at the assumption, but then figures Keith probably got that a lot. It really pulls at some of his heartstrings.

Keith seems to relax slowly, his eyes roaming Lance’s face again, mouth parted slightly. Lance’s eyes flick down to his lips and back up at Keith’s eyes in panic, hoping he didn’t notice that. And hoping that he didn’t notice Lance’s cheeks getting darker with a blush.

“Um,” Lance clears his throat and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, you know, about Friday.”

Keith blinks. “Oh, uh, it’s fine, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Yeah, but, I do. I don’t want you to think that I think of you like that.”

“Like what?” Keith walks around him to start heading to the librarian to check out and check in books.

“Like... that I might hate your guts or something,” Lance shrugs. “Which I don’t.”

“Mhm…” Keith hands over the aerodynamics book and checks out the new book which doesn’t seem to have a title printed on front.

Lance takes that as a sign that the conversation is over and sighs inwardly. He shoves his hands in his pockets and makes to back away. “Alright, well, it was good to actually talk to you, Keith.”

Keith looks back up at him as he got the book back, and walks up to him. “Yeah, uh, Lance, right?”

Wait.

Wait did he not…

“You’re saying you didn’t know who I was this whole time?” Lance doesn’t know if he should feel angry or sad. He kind of feels a mix of both. What a pattern. “Wow,” he smirks, attempting to beat the feelings into oblivion. He puts his hand over his chest to feign hurt. “Real ego-kicker.”

Keith tilts his head in question as they make their way to the doors.

“Really? We’ve been in the same classes since junior high?”

Keith looks down at his feet, eyebrows pinching in the center as Lance once again holds the doors for them.

“I tried being your friend like three different times back then and you brushed me off each time?”

Keith doesn’t respond, hugging the book to his chest.

“Dude I made up a dumb rivalry between us because you always one-upped me in exams!”

Lance can’t believe this. How could Keith not remember who he was? They make their way back to the lunchroom before Lance spoke up again. His heart is starting to pick up speed as he told himself to just get it out, like ripping off a bandaid.

“Hey, uh, would you want to maybe, hang out after school? My friends and I,” he waves over where Pidge and Hunk were watching them and they wave over when both Keith and Lance looks over at them. “We do study sessions every Monday and Wednesday and I was hoping maybe you’d like to join us?”

Keith considers, looking back at Lance. “Sure,” he shrugs.

Lance’s jaw almost drops. How easy was that! “S-seriously?”

“Yeah, finals and SATs are going to be soon, so why not?” Keith nods.

Lance lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, feeling a little light-headed. “W-would you like to meet them?”

Keith nods again with a tilt in one shoulder. Lance mind-numbingly leads Keith over to their table and props himself up on the chair he was in before.

“Guys—” his voice pitches upward, clearing his throat. “Guys, this is Keith.”

He still feels dazed, thankful for Hunk for picking up on the introductions. “Hey Keith, I’m Hunk, the best friend, yeah.”

“Pidge,” she does a little two-finger salute and goes back to her book.

Keith waves with his free hand. “Hi.”

“Are you going to be joining us this afternoon for studying?” Hunk asks, leaning on the table and shifting his eyes to Lance before looking back at Keith.

“Uh, yeah, I hope that’s… fine?”

“Totally!” Pidge pipes up before the bell rang, causing everyone to jump slightly and the cafeteria to go crazy to put up trays and get to class before the next bell sounds. “Well, that’s my cue for library. Later guys. Nice meeting you, Keith.” She gets up and skitters over to the library, leaving her tray.

“Yeah, I better clean up before we get in trouble or something. I’ll see you afterwards then, Keith!” Hunk smiles and goes off to dispose the trays.

Lance manages to get his heart under control and down into its proper place again. Breathing a sigh, he pushes off the chair. “So what class do you have now?”

“Oh, chemistry,” Keith comments, starting to turn away.

“Yikes, on the other side of Berrian Hall?” Lance hisses in a breath. That was a trek to walk right after lunch.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it. Not like I have to stop by my locker anyway, so I should be able to make it,” Keith shrugs, lifting a hand to tuck his hair behind an ear. “It was nice talking to you and thanks for inviting me to your study group, but if I’m gonna make it on time, I need to start walking now.”

“Hey, no problem. You’re welcome to come hang out with us whenever.” Lance grins, feeling slightly giddy.

Keith smiles in return and waves as he made his way down the exact oppose hall Lance was heading in.

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, backing up as he watches Keith go, grin softening into a fond smile. He turns and walks down the hall to band class, seeing Pidge jogging out of the library and head down the hall next to his.

Maybe he has a chance after all.

God, he’s already so gone on this guy.

 

* * *

 

So doing the math, he has a month until prom. That’s three weeks to get a suit, if he goes. Two weeks to get a boutonnière—hopefully two—ordered, if he goes. And little under one week to ask Keith if he’d be his date. Okay? Yeah, he can do that.

He has until Friday, and that thought causes a spark of nerves to untangle and flutter in his chest. He shakes himself and yells internally.

He walks into Social Studies and notices Keith isn’t at his desk yet, which is strange because he’s normally here before him. Well, to give himself credit, he’s actually here really early for once.

Speak of the devil, as soon as he sits down, Keith walks in the door, hair down from his ponytail. He looks up and notices Lance watching him.

Lance gives him a nervous smile and a small wave, Keith returning the smile before taking his seat. Lance notices the small Litten charm dangling from his back pocket. Not because he was looking at Keith’s butt, definitely not.

Of course the guy is a fire type. He props his head up on his hand, eyes still on Keith as he fishes out a notebook from his satchel, then going back to looking for something else. He hears Keith groan in frustration, hands coming up to pat his ears and his pockets before sighing.

Lance perks up. Did he need a pencil? He pulls out his box of pens and pencils and pulls out a nice red mechanical pencil and makes sure it’s filled with lead before getting Keith’s attention. “Here.”

Keith studies him, shaking his head in wonder. “How did you—”

“I can read minds,” he winks, smirk in place.

Keith scoffs and rolls his eyes, reaching out and taking the pencil. “God, I hope not,” his fingers brush Lance’s gently before pulling the pencil out of his grip. So he paints his nails too, huh? Looks like they needed another coat, the black chipping in some places. “Thanks.”

Lance brings his hand back and rubs his thumb over his other fingers. “No problem. You can keep that, too, I’ve got,” he picks up the box of pencils and shakes them gently, “plenty.”

Keith chuckles, turning back around and rolling the pencil between his fingers and shooting a glance back at Lance, smiling before opening his notebook and starting to write. Lance could see his ears turn a cute shade of pink.

Lance blinks slowly, eyes half-lidded with a sappy smile on his face. He’s probably the perfect picture of that snapchat filter with the floating hearts above the head. He didn’t care. Things were going better than he could have imagined, to be honest.

The bell snaps him out of his lovey-dovey gaze and he turns his attention back on the front, feeling better and more focused than he had been last week.

Until the teacher enters the room looking peeved about something.

Time goes by almost too slow.

Lance is in agony having to listen to mister Jones drone on and on about politics for thirty minutes straight. How could someone be this interested and so invested in something that happened in the news regarding a political figure not attending a certain event? Not Lance.

Looking around, he could see several of his classmates had nodded off. And Keith…

Keith is still writing.

His right hand props his head up and his left is writing fluidly across the page. Lance really wonders if he’s actually taking notes on the mess that was coming out of their teacher or if he’s writing something else.

Keith looks up, twirls the pencil— _his_  pencil—between his fingers and looks down at the page again, bringing the pencil to his bottom lip, tapping it a few times.

Lance feels his cheeks warm up and he has to tear his gaze away from Keith and back at the teacher to get his thoughts back to something less exciting. More boring. Not thinking about how Keith’s lips might feel on his own and not against the pencil.

Lance closes his eyes in a silent groan. Not helping.

Thankfully, the bell sounding above tears his eyes open and he sits up straight, not aware he had fallen asleep. He lets out a sigh, getting his heart rate back down and reaching for his bag to put everything up. And with a subtle check at his pants, everything is normal again.

He stands from the desk and looks over to Keith, who is packing his things up as well, placing his pencil in the front pocket of the satchel before folding over the top and snapping it in place. Keith looks up and smiles at Lance, standing and wrapping his bag strap across his chest.

“I just need to tell Shiro that I’m hanging out with you guys before I go with you.”

“Yeah, no problem. Did you want Shiro to drop you off at Pidge’s or do you want to,” Lance swallows, fighting down a blush that threatens to spread over his cheeks, “ride with me or Hunk?”

Keith shifts his weight, Lance absolutely not letting his gaze drop down to where Keith’s hip cocks out to the side. “I dunno, I feel like it’d maybe be easier for Shiro to give me a ride? That way he knows where to pick me up.”

Lance nods, yes, that does make sense. He frowns for a split second before smiling again. “Okay then, I can text you the address?” He pulls out his phone, pausing to see if it was fine to get Keith’s number first.

“Oh, yeah, I probably need that don’t I?” Keith chuckles, pulling out his own phone from his back pocket. Lance grins when he spots the Litten charm dangle from the phone.

“Somehow I knew you were a fire type,” Lance smirks. He refrains from using a pick-up line and putting himself in a potential embarrassing situation.

Keith looks up at him before looking down at his little charm. “Oh, yeah? Let me guess,” he does a little up-down—could that be considered him checking Lance out?—“water?”

Lance sputters. “W—” Okay that wasn’t fair. “How’d you know?”

“You kind of just look like a water type,” Keith shrugs, playful smirk on his face as he holds out his phone. “Chill and laid-back.”

Lance makes a noise before taking Keith’s phone and placing his own in Keith’s waiting hand. He has to busy himself to take his own attention off his burning cheeks. They put in their numbers and when Lance gets his phone back, he punches in Pidge’s address and sends it to him. “Do you have Pokemon Go?”

“I mean, I did, but I haven’t touched it in a while.”

“Understandable. It got pretty lame after they took away the distance thing.”

“Yeah, I thought so too!” Keith nods, pocketing his phone and following Lance out of the classroom. They share a chuckle over how redundant the ‘Pokemon near you’ feature was and why they still had it in there if it practically serves no purpose other than to taunt you.

“Then again I haven’t picked it up since then so I’m not sure if they added anything new to replace it or if it’s still garbage,” Lance continues, following Keith at his side.

Keith smiles and laughs a little, tacking on a small “yeah.”

“What team were you on?”

“Instinct.”

Lance laughs out loud, almost doubling over. “Oh, that was almost predictable I about didn’t ask.”

Keith smirks, side-eyeing Lance. “Then why did you?”

“Uh, because Mystic is the best team and I had my hopes up thinking you might possibly be on the only team that matters.”

Keith rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still smiling. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Anyway,” Lance takes it and runs with it, “when I did have it I would go around my neighborhood with Hunk and get all the really good ones. Like there was a Dratini on the other side of my neighborhood, and it’s a fairly large place—”

Keith smiles and listens to Lance as he rambles on about who got it and who he had to fight—almost physically fight—to get the catch. He arrives at his locker and pulls out a couple of books and stuffs them in his satchel.

“—never attempted that again. It was too wild you should’ve been there,” Lance chuckles now, shaking his head at the memory. He leans against the locker next to Keith’s, arms crossed, and watches Keith put things into his bag. He notices the stickers and pictures on the door of the locker. “Okay so, we’ll see you there? My locker’s on the next hall so I gotta go get some stuff.” He starts to back away, waving confidently with a grin on his face.

Keith returns the smile and waves. “Yeah I’ll see you there.”

“Cool,” he draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he continues to grin and snaps his fingers before clasping his hands in front of him, turning on his heel. He feels eyes on him and when he turns to glance, they sneer at him and continue walking, chins held up. The gaggle of girls who were normally interested in Keith shooting him looks like they couldn’t stand Lance.

He continues to watch them, having stopped walking, and notices them following after Keith, one of them even calling out to him. He couldn’t hear what they were saying because of the rest of the noise from everyone around him, but he watches their faces twist and they all tilt their heads back laughing. He feels something dark twist in his chest and he balls his fists.

He sniffs, rolling his shoulders back and continuing on his way to his locker. Whatever that feeling was, he hated it. He never wants to feel that again.

However, he can’t help but wonder, if Keith and he start dating, would they do the same? Would the girls gain confidence and start picking on Lance for ‘stealing’ Keith? Would they try to tear them apart? Would that bother Keith? Getting all that even more unwanted attention on top of what he’s already getting would have to be annoying…

He pulls out his phone and notices a new text from his mom telling him to pick up Veronica and Luis at school and he rolls his eyes. He couldn’t catch a break. Looks like he’d have to stop by the house before heading to Pidge’s, again, which means Keith’s gonna get there before he does.

Arriving at his locker, he sees Hunk and Pidge pick up their things.

“Hey man I thought you already headed out,” Hunk leans against his locker again, Pidge on her phone.

“Yeah, no, I just,” Lance bites at his lip to contain the smile blooming on his face, opening his locker and pulling books out with a sigh, “walked Keith to his locker.”

Hunk chuckles. “Dude you’ve got it bad. This is probably worse than when you had that crush on Jenny Shaybon,” he teases. “Or was it the other Jenny?”

“Shut up, Hunk,” he playfully pushes his friend, blush on his cheeks. He packs everything in his bag and closes his locker. “Oh I have to swing by the house to drop off Ronka and Luis, so do you want me to bring anything?”

Pidge pipes up. “Uh yeah actually, could you bring that Voltron card game you have? Now that there’s four people, we might actually have fun playing it., Even though it's best with five.”

Lance’s eyes light up. “Oh, good idea Pidge. I’ll pick that up. Hunk?”

“Nah, I’ll take Pidge on a snack run and pick up some water and stuff before we get to her house.”

“Alright then, if you change your mind let me know.”

They manage to run into Keith waiting outside and wave at him before heading to their respective cars.

“Okay guys I’ll see you there. I already gave Keith your address, Pidge, so expect him to show up before me.”

She waves a hand in the air as she continues walking to Hunk’s truck, still on her phone.

“Wonder what she’s so involved in?”

“Oh, she’s ordering some new parts for Rover,” Hunk supplies, grin taking up almost half of his face.

“No way, she’s gonna pick that project back up again? Sick,” Lance opens the passenger side door and throws his bag in. “Can’t wait to see him actually up off the ground.”

“I know, I’m so excited,” Hunk waves, jogging to catch up with Pidge.

Lance wastes no time getting out of the parking lot this time, his car acting better than on Friday. He weaves through traffic and turns into the junior high pick-up and drop-off area, watching his younger siblings walk to the car.

Veronica takes the back seat and Luis takes the front, grinning up at Lance.

“Hey, bud, how was school?” Lance humors him with questions as they drive home. Veronica has her earbuds in and proceeds to ignore them.

“It was so cool! My friends and I built a rocket out of paper!”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah! We launched it and it hit mister Clearwater in the head,” he doubles over laughing, most likely recalling the look on his teacher’s face.

Lance winces inwardly, trying to picture the scene that was no doubt funny.

They all clamber out of Lance’s car and head inside. Lance greets his mom, his dad most likely at work still. He goes upstairs and grabs the asked-for items and goes back downstairs.

“Love you, _mamá,_ going to study with Pidge and Hunk,” Lance kisses her cheek and grabs his keys and makes for the door. He sees his other brother Marco come up and curiously stare at him.

“Need something there, bro?” Lance ask, arching an eyebrow.

Marco studies him, squinting at him before his eyes widen slightly and his eyebrows lift off into space.

Lance looks around, startled, before looking back at his brother. “What is it?” He hisses.

“You’re never this excited about studying with your friends. Never so quick to leave, either.”

Lance smiles nervously. “W-what do you mean? Of course I am!”

“Mm-mm, no. I think there’s someone else joining you guys,” his little brother smirks.

Lance ruffles his hair with a nervous laugh before side-stepping out of the door. “You’re wrong it’s just me, Pidge, and Hunk. As normal. No one else. _Chao_.”

He didn’t want to be late after all.

 

* * *

 

Arriving at Pidge’s took no time at all, having to run inside because it had started to rain on his way over. He has the card game under one arm and his bag slung over the other, shaking his head a little to dry off when he enters the house.

“Hey hey! Leave the shaking to the dog, will you?” Matt complains, closing the door and returning to the couch.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to remember that,” Lance rolls his eyes, sarcasm shining through his words as he makes his way to the basement. Nothing could really bring him down at the moment. Not when he has time to hang out more with his friends, and now Keith.

He takes the steps two at a time and arrives at the bottom with a flourish. “Your savior is here!”

“Oh yippie,” Pidge drawls without even looking up from her laptop at the table.

The table had been pushed around along with the couch so there was more sitting space. The couch pushed up next to a long side of the table while the table was pushed up against a wall on the other long side. Two chairs sat on opposite ends of the table and Hunk and Pidge took up those seats. Keith is sitting closer to Pidge on the couch and he perks up and slings his arm over the back of the couch to look at Lance.

“Oh I thought we were greeting Loki or something,” Keith smirks, teasing tone already set in place.

“Okay, rude,” Lance walks over to the couch. “And why did you pick Marvel over DC?” He places his bag on the floor and the card game on the table, cocking his hip out when he rights himself. “Also, here Pidge.”

She looks up from her work and smiles, adjusting her glasses. “Nice, that’s gonna be a good motivator.”

“Uh, what do you mean, why? Marvel’s story and universe is much more interesting,” Keith crosses his arms, expression on his face telling Lance he thinks he’s already won this.

Boy was he wrong.

“You’re wrong for a number of reasons, the biggest being you’re a Marvel fan and not a DC fan, which is fine, I will overlook that little flaw in your personality,” he wiggles his fingers at Keith, the other hand placed on his hip as he leans over slightly.

Keith scoffs.

“Secondly, I’m offended you compared me to Loki.”

“Have you even seen the newest Thor movie? You _literally_ just quoted Loki. I was making a reference.”

“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen.”

Hunk stretches and pops his back with a sigh of relief. “Wanna keep to our normal times or switch it up this time?”

“Nah, let’s keep it normal,” Lance waves his hand dismissively. “Easier that way anyway.” He points at Keith, “don’t think this discussion is over.”

“Times?” Keith rolls his eyes, ignoring Lance.

“Yeah. We have a timer set for how long we study for and then a timer for how long of a break we get. We get forty-five minutes of studying with a fifteen minute break normally,” Hunk explains as Lance steps over the arm of the couch. He tries not to think about the fact his friends are making him share a couch with Keith.

“If that’s too much of a break time for you though, let us know? Or we can do like a trial run? Then switch up times after the first break?” Pidge offers, leaning over her chair to get at a book from her bag.

Keith nods leans over the couch and picks it out for her. “Sounds good.”

Pidge hums in thanks, taking the book and opening it with a sigh.

“Alright, well, since Pidge’s the only one who’s really been studying the whole time while waiting on you, let’s go ahead and start the clock,” Hunk notes, opening the timer on his phone and setting it to their routine.

Lance glances over at Keith who was nodding and pulling out his textbooks. He flicks his eyes up to meet Lance’s for a short second before Lance clears his throat and looks away, busying himself with dragging his laptop out of his bag. He feels the warmth in his cheeks and inwardly groans, willing it to go away.

Placing the laptop on the table, he catches Hunk’s gaze, who is smirking at him knowingly.

“ _Qué_ ,” Lance hisses, opening his laptop more harshly than he normally does. Hunk continues to smirk at him, laughing quietly when Lance swats at him with his right hand.

He pulls out his headphones and plugs them into his phone, stringing the correct earbud around the correct ear, and making sure they sit snug. He opens his mouth in a fake yawn to see if they’d move and when they didn’t he presses play on his study tunes. He puts the laptop on his lap, bringing his legs up to lay against each other as he leans to the right a bit, settling his right elbow on the arm of the couch.

Comfort was a solid eight out of ten, could be better. Possibly with a blanket or…

He side-glances over at Keith while his laptop boots up. He’s facing Lance but too focused on the book in front of him to pay him any attention. His red-framed glasses are on his face again, and Lance thinks it’s the cutest thing. His hair is pulled up out of his face and held back by an Under Armour headband. He’s mouthing some words as he read them off the page, sometimes making a confused expression before re-reading the passage.

He had sat himself against the left side of the couch, against the armrest, slouched back a bit. His legs are propped up, knees bumping against the other, one foot under the other. His right hand is balled and resting against his cheek, the elbow on the back of the couch, while his left hand holds the book.

Lance doesn’t notice he turned his full attention to Keith until Hunk flicks his knee under the table, pointing at his phone. Lance’s face is heating up quick as he grabs for his phone, reading the private message his friend sent.

_You really have it bad, buddy._

For once, he was glad this wasn’t in the group chat.

_**come on, like you weren’t this bad w shay.** _

He was worse.

But Lance did have to give him props for making a move as fast as he did. Fast being a month after hardcore pining.

Lance doesn’t have a month to be tormented by this crush and pining after him like this, but he also doesn’t want to move in too fast. Especially after having just gotten Keith on actual talking terms with him. Especially after getting Keith to come have a study session with them for the first time. Especially after he realized that he’d like to do this a lot more often.

He gives his friend a pointed look over his laptop, attempting to convey his best ‘try me’ through eye expression only.

_Okay but this isn’t about me._

_It’s about your big crush on Keith._

_Who happens to be sitting not one foot away from you. :)_

Lance chances a quick glance over at Keith who had gotten a notebook and pencil out and is leaning over to write something on the table, eyes glancing back at the textbook in his lap. He swallows as his eyes follow the curve of his shoulder blade, down the folds of his shirt, and stops at the sliver of skin at his hip. He looks back at Hunk before he’s caught staring for too long and then down at his phone.

_**stop this.** _

He tries conveying how much he wants to drop the subject in those two words.

_Come on is there something I can help with?_

Lance makes a small noise in the back of his throat, glaring down at his phone.

**_no._ **

He watches the bubble pop up to notify him that Hunk was typing, before getting his message.

_If you want, Pidge and I can leave the room for some ‘errand’ and leave you both down here? :)_

He closes his eyes and sighs, bringing his hand up to rub his fingers over his eyelids. When he opens them again, hand resting against his temple, he notices Hunk had sent another message.

_Just trying to help, bud._

His lips twitch into a half-smile before settling again. He knows Hunk just wants to help, and he really wants to let him, but he also wants to do this by himself.

_**thanks but i’d rather it just Happen Naturally… if it ever does.** _

With that, Lance locks his phone and sets it down, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat to get comfortable again. He puts in his password on his laptop and pulls up his word processor: the free and beautiful LibreOffice. He _would_  use google docs but he has the habit of keeping his personal writings and his school related writings separate. Plus he didn’t feel like making a new folder in his google drive.

He reaches over the side of the couch for his bag when he brushes something fuzzy and jumps. He absolutely did _not_ screech.

He puts his hand over his chest and closes his eyes to regulate his breathing, taking out a single earbud. “H-how long has Bae Bae been down here?”

He hears Pidge hum in thought. “Probably five minutes?”

Okay that wasn’t terrible. He reaches down to pet Bae Bae’s head and reaches into his bag, pulling out his Chemistry textbook. He flips it open to the appropriate chapter and a couple pages in, finding the question he’s supposed to answer.

He hears the dog scamper off and the telltale creaking of stairs as the dog makes his way back up.

He reads the question. And then again. And again. And then finds himself staring at Keith’s feet, covered with black socks. The foot on top is tapping against the one on the bottom in an unrecognizable rhythm.

His head starts going with ideas about how to exactly ask Keith to the prom. Or would it be easier to ask him on a date first? _Then_  to prom if the date went well? Should he do it casually or pull out the stops? Would Keith be embarrassed or in awe? Would he even be interested in Lance at all?

That last thought makes his heart race and gets him thinking maybe this was all a bad idea. Maybe he should just keep it safe. Keep Keith in his friend group and not chance screwing things up by asking him out. That’s the safest bet. That would make everything normal. He’d have a healthy four good friends to study with and hang out with. He wouldn’t scare Keith away after just getting him in his little niche. He’d be happy with that.

Except, he wouldn’t be happy.

He wouldn’t be happy knowing he had to hang out with Keith and not have the chance to possibly move forward. To hear Keith laugh and smile around him and his friends and being unable to smile softly back at him. To not be able to hold his hand like he really wants to. To not be able to touch his cheek softly and brush his hair out of his eyes. To have those eyes looking at him, darting around his face with a couple different emotions surfacing on Keith’s own—

Lance snaps back into reality and feels his face heat up, his mouth working to sputter some nonsense excuse. He had, in his thoughts, somehow shifted his gaze from Keith’s feet to his face. His face that is sporting a very cute blush, but that isn’t important right now. It’s important to Lance, just not in this specific—

Whatever.

Pidge is snickering next to Keith, phone in her hand and held up vertically, camera aimed at Lance. Hunk is shaking his head, hands over his face. Keith continues to stare at him, cautious… _something_ … written on his face, eyes searching Lance’s face for answers.

Lance shakes his head, face too hot, heart pounding wildly in his ears and drowning out every attempt at getting his attention. He ends up sputtering some garbled up mess and shoves himself off the couch, grabbing his phone and making his way—running—upstairs; upstairs, and then into the bathroom. He shuts the door with a loud bang and leans against it, heart hammering out of his chest. He’s breathing fast, hand shaking as he rubs at his chest, then his neck, then to cover his mouth as he stares, wide-eyed, at the black and white tiled floor.

He slowly slides down the door, pulling his knees to his chest and taking out his earbuds. He closes his eyes and listens to the rain hit the bathroom window, trying to slow his breathing. His head hits the door with a soft thump, opening his eyes and looking up at the unlit light in the center of the ceiling.

He hopes to god he didn’t say any of that _out loud_ . He hopes to _god_ he didn’t say any of that _out loud_ . He hopes to _god_ he didn’t say _any_ of that _out loud_ and he hopes Pidge didn’t catch it on video if he did.

His thoughts start to spiral downward.

He most likely said something stupid or worse, something he was thinking about. Which means Keith heard it. Which means Keith probably was looking at him like that because he thought Lance is crazy. Because he thought Lance is disgusting for thinking any of that. Because he obviously doesn’t feel that way. He obviously doesn’t share the same feelings Lance does. He knew it was a futile thing to consider. He knew not to get his hopes up.

He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his face until his eyes start to sting, blinking rapidly. He inhales a shaky breath, reaching a hand up to wipe at his eye. “ _Mierda…_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> picks up where the previous one leaves off on!

He doesn’t know how long he’s been holed up in the Holt’s second story bathroom. He’s lost track of time, staring at the corner of the stand-alone shower, fighting the tears that continue to try to fall over. His hand clings to his cell phone, feeling the short vibrations every now and then but refusing to acknowledge them.

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He wants to be left alone.

Lance’s thoughts had dwindled into nothing: his mind blank and numb. He’s just staring blankly at the shower. Eyes half-lidded and tired.

It was about that time that a second wave of panic crashes into him and he lurches forward, eyes wide. “He knows…” he whispers, free hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Oh god, he knows…”

Lance closes his eyes and focuses on trying to breathe. His heart just hammering away in his skull, slowing on the intake of breath and then back up to speed on the exhale. He repeats this a couple of times before he feels his body go numb, hand falling away from his face again and settling on his lap.

Staring at his shoes, he shakes his head. His eyebrows pinch in the center as he lets out a short, hollow laugh.

This whole thing is ridiculous and he was probably overreacting.

His rational, logical part of his mind knows that he was overreacting. He probably didn’t even say anything out loud. But the anxious, emotional side tells him that he had voiced every single one of his thoughts to Keith, and that makes him want to curl in on himself and never come out. Even though, eventually, he’d have to work up enough courage to ask the boy he likes to prom…

The back of his head thumps against the door softly for the second time as he breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. Just like his _mamá_ taught him. _Remember to breathe. Breathing like this will help you calm down_. He remembers his _mamá’s_ words the first time he had a panic attack—on a much larger scale than this—and how soft her words had been, the supportive hand rubbing his back, and the patient smile she gave him when he was able to draw a deep breath through his nose without the hyperventilating breaking it up.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps approach and stop outside the bathroom door. He barely registers the timid knock over the sound of the ringing in his ears. He does though, and he pulls in a sharp breath, hand closing over his mouth, heart jackhammering in his chest.

“Lance?”

Keith’s voice is quiet, the door muffling most of his words. “Hey, Lance, I just want to make sure you’re okay…?”

Oh no. Why now? Why Keith? Did Hunk send him up here?

Lance lets out a puff of air, furiously wiping at his eyes, and struggling to stand up. He pockets his phone and balls his fist a couple of times before reaching out and taking hold of the handle, pulling the door open and staring down at Keith’s black and red striped socks.

He hears Keith pull in a breath, sees his hand twitch and his thumb run over his pointer finger. He sees Keith shift his weight before steeling himself and raising his gaze to look briefly at Keith’s face.

Keith is still sporting that cute little blush and it makes his heart lurch. He couldn’t look at it for too long, his gaze falling over to the side.

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry—”

“Oh, uh, you… first?” Keith offers, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

Lance inhales a breath and releases it after a second. “I’m sorry if… if I said anything back there,” he barely recognizes his own voice, scratchy and low, a little above a whisper. “Especially if it weirded you out…”

Keith stares at him, lowers his hand to his side again—and at least he wasn’t figetting anymore. “What?”

Lance’s face burns and his eyes sting. “I-If I said anything,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “that made you uncomfortable or embarrassed, because that’s the last thing I ever want to do...”

“No I mean… I don’t know what you’re apologizing for?”

Lance looks back at Keith’s face, attempting to fight back the tears by not blinking, quickly looking down and wiping at his face when a few spill over anyway. “W-what?”

“You didn’t say anything... you were just... looking at me.”

Oh.

Well.

His eyes refocus on Keith’s face, eyebrows pinching slightly in the center. “I… I didn’t?”

Keith shakes his head, a small, nervous and confused smile on his face. “No.”

Oh.

Lance stands up a little straighter, wipes his face with his sleeve, and sniffs, pulling a pinched, bemused expression. “Psh, yeah of—of course I didn’t. I mean, who does that, anyway?” He gestures with his hand, his posture reeling in on the defense and pushing out the offense. Time to turn the conversation away from him. “Anyway is it break time or do we still have time left because I know I ran out of there pretty quick and dropped my laptop and I’m pretty sure it may have broken because I’m positive I heard something crack and my mom would be furious if i have to buy a new laptop because we don’t have that kind of money—”

He continues to ramble, side-stepping Keith who refuses to budge from the door, and making his way down the hall. His voice fades out and he took the stairs slowly, coming to a pause halfway down to listen. Keith hadn’t moved, or if he had, he has a very light step.

He breathes in to try to calm the hummingbirds in his chest from crashing against his ribcage. He exhales and continues to make his way down the stairs, waving sheepishly to Colleen who is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, bowl in her hands.

“Everything alright, Lance?”

He nods at her, a hopefully reassuring smile on his face before descending into the basement.

Hunk greets him almost immediately with a hug. Pidge walks up and pats his shoulder.

He hugs his best friend back, burying his head into Hunk’s shoulder. He squeezes once before backing out of the hold. “Thanks,” he smiles, feeling drained. He turns to Pidge. “So, if i didn’t say anything out loud, why were you recording me?”

“I was recording your facial expressions. And Keith’s reaction to them. But I’m not going to show them to you.”

“You’re mean,” Lance frowns. “And why were you hiding your face and shaking your head?” He turns his attention back to Hunk.

“I was upset at Pidge recording you in the first place because I know how you’d react to that and I tried to get her to stop but… she doesn’t listen.”

“You’re right, I don’t. And he’ll see it soon, I just don’t want to show it to him right now.” She shrugs and goes back to her computer, sitting back into her chair. She pulls up a piece of equipment and fiddles with it, every once in a while reading something off the screen.

Lance huffs, crossing his arms to hug himself. “So what happened after I left?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Hunk whispers, clapping him on the shoulder and walking back to the table.

Lance’s ear twitches at the sound of floorboards creaking on the staircase behind him. Keith finally catching up. How long had he just stood at the bathroom then? He pulls out his phone and looks at the missed messages while making his way to pick up his laptop.

The first few were from Hunk. All sent within two minutes.

_Hey man what was that?_

_Are you alright?_

_Do I need to come up there?_

_Come on, bro, say something, I’m worried._

Lance pats his friend on the shoulder, picking up his laptop and setting it gently on the table. Keith makes his way in and side-glances over at Lance. If Lance looks up he’d no doubt see an expressionless face, hard to read and closed off from him, and he didn’t want to see that. So he keeps his focus elsewhere.

Keith slowly sits down in his seat, crossing his legs under him and holding onto his ankles. Lance sits down too, back slumping forward as he boots up his laptop again. Thankfully not broken but it did shut down upon crashing with the floor. He studies his phone again while the computer boots up.

The next message was a single one from Pidge.

_everything’s gonna b fine, trust me_

He doesn’t know what she had meant by this and he’s a little curious. He fights looking up and chancing a glance at Keith, swallowing as he opens the next few messages. From Keith.

_Lance are you ok_

_I didn’t mean to startle you or anything_

_… I’m coming up there to check on you I hope that’s ok_

Lance stares down at his phone, rereading the messages for the fifth time, glancing over to Keith. He’s looking back in his textbook in his lap, his right thumb rubbing over his pointer finger again. Lance couldn’t help but wonder if that’s a coincidence or if it happens to be a comfort gesture like when Lance rubs his foot against the back of his calf.

He really wants to hold that hand and rub _his_ thumb over the back of Keith’s hand.

He focuses back down on his phone and types in a message to Keith.

**thanks. you didn’t startle me. i’m sorry for freaking out on you like that. i thought something similar had happened like last friday. and i didn’t know how to handle if you found out my feelings for you that way.**

His finger hovers over the send button before deleting that last sentence. He sends it off and hears Keith’s phone buzz a few seconds later. He sets his own on the arm of the couch and turns his attention back to the computer, opening LibreOffice again. He pulls his textbook up off the floor and reopens to the correct chapter.

Of course it’s then that Hunk’s timer goes off and it’s break time. Had he… really been up there for almost forty-five minutes? No way. They started the timer but he had gotten like… _at least_ fifteen minutes into it before he freaked out… right? Lance’s eyebrows furrow, an incredulous frown on his face as he stares at the beeping thing.

Hunk stretches and stands from his seat rather quickly, turning off the timer. “Snacks, anyone?” He walks across the room and to the stairs. “Pidge?”

Pidge looks over to Hunk and adjusts her glasses. “Oh, yeah, here let me help you with those.” She clambers out of her seat and trots over to where Hunk is making his way up the stairs.

Lance watches the whole thing with an eyebrow raised before seeing what was happening. His eyes widen in split-second panic, not wanting to have to face Keith and this conversation right now. Please, not now...

He fights down a blush, steeling himself as much as he could before turning his head slowly to Keith who had his phone in his hand and was looking back at him.

“Uh,” Lance drums his fingers on his textbook. “So…”

Keith continues to watch him, his expression open and… concerned. Dark violet eyes seeming to drink in every little change in Lance’s expression. Attempting to convey to Lance that he could trust him. At least that’s what Lance is getting from Keith right now. And boy did he want to…

He really wants to just pour his heart out and get it over with. Rip the bandaid off right?

Lance swallows, nervously laughing as he averts his gaze and looks anywhere but at Keith, feeling his heart pick up tempo. No, not the right time. “Yeah…” He slowly turns back to his textbook, not really reading the words that were starting to jumble together, but using it as a distraction to make him look busy.

“Lance?”

Lance hums, pitched upwards in question.

“Lance, can you look at me?” Keith’s voice is hushed, not a whisper but not normal indoors volume either. Quiet, like he was back in the library earlier today, but still containing that gravelly undertone Lance finds he likes so much.

If he gets any quieter, Lance is sure he’d get goosebumps from hearing it.

He lingers on the page of gibberish for a moment longer before slowly tearing his eyes away to look at Keith. His heart’s doing somersaults in his chest and he’s positive Keith can hear it.

Keith had turned in his seat to face lance, his legs still crossed and his hands in his lap, clutching his phone. The Litten charm falling over and resting on his calf.

Lance slowly mirrors him, as much as his body will allow him in his current fight or flight state.

Keith watches him, eyes darting over his face and mouth opening a few times, each time catching on nothing. He looks away for a brief moment before looking back at Lance. “So, um… tell me your… favorite DC superheroes?”

Lance’s eyebrows pinch and he could feel his heart beat in his ears. He totally thought Keith was going to talk about something else. “Uh…”

“I mean, if you want to. I was just trying to…” he trails off, leaving the sentence open and averting his gaze with a blush, a pout forming.

Just trying to…

Oh.

Oh no that’s sweet of him. Lance feels his face heating up again.

He shakes his head a bit, trying to get with the program and accept the out that Keith is offering. “Oh, um… yeah sure,” Lance hugs his arms to his chest, propping his left leg up on the couch. “I really like Wonder Woman and Dick Grayson.”

Keith looks back at him, leaning forward the slightest bit. “Why them?”

“Well, Wonder Woman is a feminist icon,” he starts, refraining from fully nerding out on this poor boy. “She’s powerful but at the same time she’s really kind hearted but she’s really big on ‘you do you’ and she’s all about self-empowerment. She’s really confident in her actions and when she tries for diplomacy and it falls through she doesn’t just say ‘oh no I have to try to find a peaceful resolution to this’ no she just—just goes in, like she will—she will beat you up. No hesitation,” he smiles. “But she’s super kind and strong, and I admire her.”

Keith’s nodding, a small smile on his face.

“And also she’s pretty hot,” Lance shrugs, smirk forming.

Keith rolls his eyes as Lance continues on about Dick Grayson next. How he’s funny and how he loves the blue suit with the stripe going down the arms and painting his ring and middle fingers blue. How sexy it is. He goes on about the different suits and why that one is his favorite.

“But also he gets a lot of gratuitous butt shots. In that suit. And it’s just,” Lance hums, eyes closing with a hand up and in the ‘okay’ sign. “Nice.”

Keith is laughing, covering his face with his hand.

“And he’s also pretty hot. One of my first crushes actually,” he lets that slip off his tongue, knowing full well it alludes to his preferences. “Wonder Woman was also.” He watches Keith’s face and gauges it for a reaction.

He sees Keith’s eyes widen a fraction before he blinks, his expression returning to interested curiosity. His posture has changed through the entire conversation. One hand is still clutching his phone in his lap, the other hand now propping his head up. He’s leaning forward and his elbow rests on his knee, head tilting slightly for comfort.

He feels better, able to ignore the ‘he doesn’t like me the way I like him’ in the back of his head. He smiles and relaxed against the couch. Breathing in, he decides it was time for a question of his own.

“Ah, hey,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pants and looking down. All of a sudden the nerves slam back in his body, heart picking up speed again. How many times has it done that in the span of three days?

“Hm?” Keith is still watching him, face relaxed.

“I, uh,” push through, “I was wondering if you want to…” He chances a glance up at Keith as he pauses, noticing Keith sit up a little, expression seeming to melt into that of concern. “Ah… tea?”

Lance’s face starts to burn, no doubt his whole face, ears, and neck were completely red. That isn’t exactly the question he had in mind, but...

“Tea?” Keith asks, trying to coax some more information out of Lance.

“B-bubble tea?” Lance’s voice pitches upward.

“What about it?” Keith starts to chuckle, sitting back and placing his hands in his lap.

“Do you wanna get some bubble tea with me later or tomorrow or something or whenever you’re free it doesn’t even have to be soon? Or at all if you’re not interested which is fine! I totally don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything so don’t feel like you have to accept just because—” Lance spills out in one breath, taking a huge inhale as he runs out. He lets his sentence die like that, swallowing harshly.

Keith’s smile softens, nodding as some floorboards creak somewhere to Lance’s left. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“God,” Lance threw his head in his hands, shielding his embarrassment from Keith as he groans. “I’m sorry, I knew you weren’t going to—” he pauses. Blinks. “Wait,” Lance lifts his head suddenly. “Did you… did you actually say yes?”

Keith smirks and sends him a wink, popping his glasses back on his face as he turns in his seat and grabs the textbook.

Lance’s mouth hangs open in disbelief. He’d said yes. He sits up straighter with such a giddy grin and mentally kicks his anxiety to the curb. Take that!

By the time Hunk and Pidge come back, Lance had refocused back on his laptop with his textbook in his lap, earbuds in the proper ear, and is currently typing away furiously. Hunk comes around to his right and taps his shoulder.

Lance looks up with a smile. “Yeah, buddy?”

“Are you feeling better?” He takes his seat, not taking his eyes off Lance, a suspicious glint in his eye.

Lance glances over at Keith who had a small smile on his face, a small blush on his cheeks, and is pointedly looking at his textbook, tapping the red pencil’s eraser on the page every so often. “Never been better, man,” he nearly sighs, smile softening.

When he looks back at Hunk, he sees that his best friend is giving him a proud smile, clapping his hand on Lance’s shoulder. He pulls out his phone and a few seconds later, Lance’s phone buzzed.

_I told you it’d be ok._

_You asked him to prom?_

**i know u did buddy.**

**and no but i asked him on a date.**

_Remind me to tell you something at school tomorrow in Lit class._

**k.**

Lance sets his phone down on the arm again and goes back to writing his paper. Every so often he looks over at Keith with a smile, sometimes catching Keith looking at him. Pidge is back in her seat and watching the whole thing with a smirk and raising an eyebrow at Lance.

“Called it—ow!” Pidge yelps rubbing her shin. Hunk is giving her a look and mouthing ‘zip it.’

She shrugs and goes back to ordering new parts for Rover.

 

* * *

 

Lance finishes his paper in one hour, better than he normally does, and he takes the rest of the session playing on his phone, sneaking glances at Keith, and going so far as to take a secret picture of him. In the picture, Keith has the pencil up to his slightly parted lips as he focuses on reading. His glasses are halfway down his nose and his hair falls in his eyes now that the headband is off.

Lance smiles down at his phone and sets the picture as Keith’s contact picture.

They never get around to playing the card game, and Lance ends up leaving it with Pidge. All four of them would play it in the future, he’s sure.

 

* * *

 

After studying, Keith and Lance head outside, Hunk decides to stay back with Pidge and help her with Rover. It’s pretty damp out but it stopped raining some time during the session. Keith walks Lance to his car and watches as he puts his stuff in the backseat.

“Shiro’s on his way, yeah?” Lance closes his door and leans against the car with an easy smile, hands in his pockets.

Keith removes his glasses and sweat band and lets his hair down. He shakes his head and comes to stand in front of Lance, pulling out his phone. “Ah, no, I haven’t let him know we were done yet.”

“Oh, uh, well do you want a ride home then?” Lance raises his shoulder in question, the corner of his lips raising in a half smile.

Keith looks up from his phone, eyes doing a quick up-down of the other. Lance feels his smile strain slightly on his face, watching nervously as Keith’s expression change from slightly surprised to curious.

“Sure…”

Lance lets out the breath he was holding before opening the passenger’s side door for Keith, who huffs a laugh, amusement clear on his face.

“Such a gentleman,” Keith quips as he lugs his stuff into the car, throwing a quick glance over at Lance, who leans against the top of the car door to watch.

“Oh, screw you,” Lance rolls his eyes, playful smirk on his face, and shoves himself off the door, leaving Keith to reach out and close it on his own. He braces himself as he inhales through his nose and held it, letting it out quick as he mumbles “here we go.”

He slides into the driver’s seat and cranks the car, silently praying it’ll work the first time and not—

...

Oh no.

He tries again, hearing it try to turn over before the sputtering was back. He sighs and lets his head fall to the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry, this car has been doing this to me for the past week.”

Lance hears a hum before the opening of a door.

“Pop the hood.”

Lance lifts his head, eyes locking on Keith’s frame as he walks around the front of the car. Fumbling with the handle, he reaches down and tugs. He gets out of the car as Keith props up the hood.

“Mind if i get in the driver’s seat?”

“No, go ahead.”

Keith slides in and looks around. Lance’s car doesn’t have lights that automatically come on as he opens doors. Well, he’s got a switch for the lights to come on when doors are open but he’s got that set to ‘off’ because it’s more convenient for him. Keith reaches up and flips the light on, humming when it turns on, bright against the darker interior. He switches it off and gets out of the car.

“You said it’s been happening for the past week?”

“Mm…” Lance nods, crossing his arms as he watches Keith.

“When you try to start it do you hear a whining noise?”

“No.”

“Hm…” Keith pulls out his phone and then looks at the sky. “I hope it’s not your spark plugs, and it’s still to light out to tell for that, so I’m going to check your air filter first. Hopefully that’s the issue.”

Lance watches with interest piqued as Keith walks over to the driver’s side of the hood, a small “ah,” leaving him as he locates the filter. Lance creeps up behind him to sort of see what he’s doing and also _not_ look at Keith’s butt.

He hears two snaps and his eyes flick up to Keith to make sure he hasn’t been caught, his heart picking up just a tad. He lets his eyes drift back down, over Keith’s back, lingering at the small sliver of skin as his shirt had ridden up, peeking and stifling a chuckle at alien-print boxers that were visible, before they settle on his butt again. It’s a nice butt. Small. But nice.

But he doesn’t know anything about Keith’s butt because he _is definitely not_ looking at it.

He jumps when Keith straightens back up, filter in hand, and a grimace on his face as he examines the dirt-clad filter.

“You need to change your filter, man,” Keith looks at him, unimpressed.

“Uh, oops?” Lance shrugs, hand snaking up behind his neck. “I thought my dad had fixed the problem, but obviously not.”

Keith rolls his eyes and walks over to the road, squatting down, and beating the air filter against the pavement. Lance just… sits back… and gets a nice view.

When Keith returns, the air filter is significantly less dirty but still needs replacing. “If you wanna swing by the store, we could probably get one for like fourteen or fifteen dollars,” he snaps the filter back into place and realigns the cover, snapping the holding hooks back into place. “I’d still check on the spark plugs if I were you.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll tell my dad.”

“Don’t know a lot about cars, then?”

“No, not… really…”

“Hm,” Keith lets down the hood, hearing it slam and click into place. “If you want, I can show you how to check the spark plugs when you get to my house,” Keith offers. “Should be dark enough by that time if we swing by the store first?”

Lance hums, walking to the driver’s side while he pulls out his wallet. “Mm…” he chews the inside of his lip. He only has twenty dollars and he wants to save that for whenever they go out for that bubble tea. As much as he loves the idea of spending more time with Keith…

“I appreciate it, but maybe another time? When we’ve both got time and it’s not getting close to my curfew…”

Keith nods, and returns to the passenger side. “Start ‘er up and see if that worked.”

Lance slides into the seat, taking note of the southern accent that Keith let slip, discarding his wallet into the pocket in the door. He inserts the keys and turns them again, hearing the engine come to life without much of an issue. He sighs in relief and closes his door, pulling his seatbelt across his chest.

“I’m glad it was that and not the spark plugs because it would’ve taken longer to fix that,” Keith comments as he closes the door and buckles in. “Or something else more serious.”

“I’m glad you know what you’re talking about. I don’t know why I was a little shocked,” he begins, backing out of the driveway and pulling up to the stop sign, “especially after you said you built your own motorcycle and you read engineering books for practical fun.”

Keith chuckles. “Yeah, my dad actually taught me a lot of what he knew about cars when I was younger,” he smiles, expression fond as he looks down at his lap.

Lance looks over at him, holding back asking questions about his family. He doesn’t know what kind of reaction he’ll get from that and he, quite frankly, doesn’t want to ruin the soft memory Keith is probably having. He can tell Keith misses his family, just from this moment. He’s not going to be the one to bring up bad memories after he smiles like that.

Sharing this small, private moment with Keith feels… a little intimate…

Clearing his throat, he brings his attention back to the steering wheel and drums his fingers against the worn leather. “So what’s your address?”

“Oh, yeah, hold on I’ll pull it up on my phone, but, uh, take this right.”

 

* * *

 

Turns out Keith lives rather close to him. Closer than the Holt’s do anyway. About a third of the way between his house and the school. Which is nice to know.

Lance pulls into the driveway and puts his car in park, turning off his headlights. He’s too afraid to turn the car off and risk having to ask Keith to help him again. He’s definitely going to check out a mechanic book on Corollas soon.

“So who gave you these,” Keith flicks the circlet of fake flowers hanging from the rear-view mirror with a chuckle.

“Oh, that’s a left over flower-crown from my sixteenth birthday. Hunk actually got us all one with our favorite colors,” Lance smiles, remembering the fond memory. He actually has that picture in his bedroom hanging, next to all his other favorite pictures of his friends, on the wall next to his bed.

“Ah, so your favorite color is blue,” Keith nodded, opening his door, smirk forming on his face. “Water type.”

“Well, yeah! I bet your’s is red.”

“You would be right,” Keith closes his door with a chuckle as Lance fumbles with his door, attempting to climb out only to be yanked back when the seatbelt catches him. With a frustrated noise, he unbuckles and hops out the car.

He catches up to Keith, who turns his way with a surprised expression. “What’s that look for?”

“You don’t have to walk me to my door, you know.”

“I wanted to, though,” Lance purses his lips and looks down, tapping the tip of his shoe against concrete. “Unless you don’t want me to, I can,” he looks back up at Keith, pointing with both thumbs behind him, “go ahead and go.”

Even though he doesn’t want to.

He wants to walk Keith to his door. Honestly, he wants to go inside but _that_ is pushing it. Keith doesn’t know him like that yet and he doubts Keith will let him inside anyway. He silently hopes he’ll still be okay with Lance walking him to his door though.

Keith looks at him, gaze flicking between Lance’s eyes, dropping down for a split second before they’re back, unmoving, at Lance’s eyes. He slowly turns his head, eyes not leaving Lance’s until the last second, to shoot a look at the door.

The door that’s literally five steps away.

Oh, that’s… that would be why.

Keith looks at him again, an amused tilt of a smile on his lips. “Okay, whatever, you dork.”

He feels his face heat up, thankful of Keith for turning around, shaking his head. Lance wastes no time and falls into step beside him, the… five paces it takes to get to the door…

Okay, he could’ve just, not done that.

Probably would’ve made this less awkward.

What in the world…

“Hey, uh,” Lance begins as Keith fishes in his pocket for his key. “Thanks for coming out and studying with us.”

Keith glances up at him and smiles before pulling out his phone instead, the little Litten charm bouncing before it stares up at Lance. “Thanks for inviting me. I had… fun.”

Lance knows that has to be false. He groans. “No you didn’t… That was _not_ fun,” especially when Lance decides to be weird and rush upstairs, causing a scene. He slips his hands over his face and rubs. Oh, oh god, he feels oily.

“No, really, I did,” Keith sounds sincere but Lance doesn’t want to look up to check and risk making a fool of himself.

He’s ignored it up until now, but the pounding in his ears is getting quicker, the silence that lingers between them making it near impossible to overlook. Pulling in a breath, he lowers his hands, eyes down.

He hears Keith typing away at his phone.

Before he loses his nerve—before he thinks about it too much, really—he reaches out and places his hand on one of Keith’s, not even gripping it, but managing somehow to move Keith’s hand away from his phone. Or maybe Keith moves it.

“Lance…?” Keith whispers, concerned.

Okay, he can work with concerned. At least it’s not one of the fifty other emotions—negative emotions—he’s afraid to receive.

“Uh,” oh, don’t freeze up now, “thank you…” Lance glances up at Keith, his cheeks warm, the rest of the words catching in his chest, lips pursing to release the rest of the air in his lungs.

Keith looks at him with wide eyes, hair sweeping in front of his face. The soft glow from the green and yellow lights above the door dancing off his eyes, making them dye a different hue of purple. They’re much lighter now and he finds himself watching the lights dance off Keith’s irises, nearly transfixed. After a few seconds of staring, Lance notices Keith’s mouth is slightly parted in surprise.

Oh.

Lance does notice the dusting of pink that blooms on Keith’s cheeks and his eyes widen just a fraction. Keith’s mouth closes as he swallows, eyes darting down to where their hands were still touching midair. Slowly, as if he doesn’t want to startle Lance, he turns his hand palm-up, fingers resting softly against the top of Lance’s fingers.

Keith’s eyes float back up to meet Lance’s. Lance’s eyes that were sheltering so many raw emotions, no doubt. Keith’s mouth quirks up in a soft, barely-there smile, giving Lance’s hand a little more pressure.

Apparently, Lance doesn’t need to continue the rest of his sentence. Keith seems to understand.

_Thanks for checking on me. Thanks for not judging me. Thanks for just being there._

His mouth parts. Working to do something.

He doesn’t feel like he’s breathing. His eyes slowly dropping from Keith’s blue-gray-yellow-green ones, down over his cheek, following the tilt of his smile, to rest there at his lips.

His lips that look slightly chapped.

Lance vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, recognizes this as the part in a story or movie where the two main characters—the love interests—would probably try to make a move and kiss each other.

Unfortunately, his life isn’t a story or movie.

He quirks his mouth up in a small smile that quickly disappears, eyes flitting back up to meet Keith’s. He sighs, softly applying pressure to Keith’s hand before pulling his hand away from Keith’s hold, backing up. He catches Keith’s confused look as Keith turns to face him, hand still in the air, the other clutching the phone is at his side now.

“Lance—”

“Well, I’ll—” he clears his throat, “I’ll see you at school?” He shoves his hands in his pockets, turning around as he hears the clicking of the door unlocking and the faint sound of Keith mumbling “yeah…”

He looks up at the door as he turns on his headlights, putting the car in reverse. Keith finally turns around to face the man at the door and walks inside.

God it’s going to be awkward at school tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Lance manages to show his dad what the problem is with his car.

When asked how he figured it out, Lance had blushed and shrugged, muttering something about a friend with a mullet.

His dad ends up going to the store and buying the new filter and they replace it together. While replacing it, Lance mentions something else his friend with the mullet had said. He remembers Keith hoping the problem wasn’t too serious and not something to do with his spark plugs.

His dad sighs with a resigned “alright,” and goes to look at the car.

Lance ends up holding a flashlight for his dad and watches him look around the engine. He points to the place where the spark plugs are and tells Lance to “keep an eye on this part here.”

Lance nods and shuts off his flashlight. His dad gets into the driver’s seat and cranks the car.

“Any sparks or anything?”

“No sir,” Lance responds, shaking his head.

“Well then, you’re fine. Tell your friend with the mullet I said thanks for looking at it,” his dad laughs as Lance scampers back into the house.

He goes straight for his room and ignores everyone else, closing his door.

The dark that surrounds him isn’t completely bad, considering he has a small set of fairy lights—currently of the blue hue—tangled around his bed frame. Quite the opposite, actually. He find the dark with the small amount of faint blue lights soothing to him. He relaxes against his door and takes a moment to just breathe, letting his eyes close.

After a moment of just standing there against the door, breathing and not thinking of anything, he pushes off and makes for his bed. He slips off his shoes and plops onto his galaxy-print comforter, face-down, and lets out a soft groan. He nuzzles his face into the sheets as he works his knees under him in order to sit up a little. One glance at the clock tells him it’s only five past eight. He grabs his pillow, shuffles up on the bed, and plops down in the corner next to two more pillows.

Sighing and burying his nose into the pillow he clutches to his chest, he briefly touches on the events that happened today.

Nearly everything, up until when he made a mess of himself, had been nice. It’d been good. Friendly development and conversation. Then the mess happened, and, even though that made him feel inadequate, Keith managed to help him calm down and forget about it for a while there.

He smiles into his pillow, eyelids drooping. He floats on that simple happy feeling before he remembers he technically asked Keith out on a date. He feels his face warm up as he buries more into the pillow with a small whine.

Why’d he go and do that? Yes, it’s kind of what he wanted to do anyway. Yes, it’s nice that Keith had said yes. But why, why, _why_ did he ask when he did?

That’s, like, probably the most random or awkward time to ask him. A better time would’ve been when he dropped Keith off at his house, not after _recovering from a small anxiety attack_.

He breathes in and exhales a sigh, rearranging his head to smush his cheek against the pillow, his eyes staring over to his small bookshelf. He supposes, if Keith agreed go anyway, then that meant he's relatively interested in him… or just took pity on him. His foot begins tapping rhythmically against his other the more he thinks about it. Then again, it didn’t seem like Keith was taking pity on him. He looked actually interested. And the way he kept looking at Lance after?

Lance shakes his head, the movement causing him to realize that all this brooding is giving him a headache. And probably wrinkles. He scrunches his nose in disgust when an image of him with wrinkles at the age of seventeen flashes in his mind.

Alright, enough of that.

He sits up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, readjusting the pillow he was holding to rest against the wall. He makes for his dresser, gets a clean pair of briefs and one of his sleep shirts, and heads for the bathroom for a nice, warm, and relaxing shower.

Whatever the result ends up being, he has a date. Which means he has a chance.

He’s got his foot in the door on his way to asking Keith to the prom, and he’s not going to let his negative thoughts ruin the possibility.

 

* * *

 

School gets… very repetitive. Especially if you’ve been on the same lessons for the past week, in _every_ class. Which has almost never happened in his entire school career. Then… should he take this as an omen? Man, he needs to stop being so negative this year. So, only positives. Positives are good.

Literature is the same. He’s still reading those couple chapters for the book assignment that his teacher decided to let them loose on and not actually teach the class.

He does, however, remember that Hunk was needing to tell him something. He glances over at his best friend who is writing something down vigorously in his open loose-leaf binder. Lance squints, trying to read whatever it is, but gives up.

Before the period ends, Hunk hands him a note and tells him to read it when he gets home.

“What about the thing you wanted to tell me during this period?”

Hunk nods and points at the note as the bell rang.

Like hell he’s waiting to get home to read this. He fiddles with the piece of paper in his pocket as he continues on with his uneventful day.

For some reason they’re still stuck on supply and demand and the effect it has on the economy in Economics.

Mathematics is the one he actually doesn’t mind being on for longer than normal. They’re going over matrices, and despite knowing how to do it, he doesn’t mind the repetition.

In band, they’re still trying to perfect a slower piece for their spring concert at the end of the year. It’s almost done; they’re just polishing the solos and bringing out the emotions. He like this piece as much, so he’s glad he wasn’t chosen for the saxophone solo.

And then Social Studies. He… honestly isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes keep wandering back to Keith, one row and a chair over from him, in clear view. His hair is down and he’s wearing a plain v-neck, short-sleeve, black shirt paired with equally black skinnies. His black converse the only thing to sport any color: words in red accent that read ‘I sold my soul for Rock N Roll’ printed on the outer sides and _Black Sabbath_ on the back, complete with bright red shoelaces.

That, and of course his tattoos.

Now that he isn’t wearing a long-sleeve shirt or a hoodie, Lance can make out the other three tattoos on his arm. Well, he can make out one clearly, the other he only catches a glimpse of. The one he’s able to see is the phrase ‘Patience Yields Focus’ in fancy curved lettering on his tricep. The not-so-clear one looks like a... triangle or something, and it’s above the crook of his elbow.

He can’t help but wonder if Keith has any other tattoos covered up—unfortunately—by the shirt. Oh man, what if he has one of those cool shoulder tattoos that covers a little bit of his chest and back at the same time? Mm, he bets that’d be hot.

Keith glances back at Lance before picking his head up a little and turning it more to face Lance. Lance, having just been thinking about tattoos on various body parts, is sporting a blush and a very soft expression. Registering that Keith is looking at him—who is actually looking at him with a shy smile and a small blush as well—blushes a little harder and lets out a huff akin to a nervous, breathless chuckle, averting his eyes. He hears Keith let out a quiet chuckle and chances a look back at him.

Keith’s eyes were closed as he chuckles, the blush still high on his cheeks.

 _He’s so pretty_ , Lance sighs, propping his elbow on the desk to rest his cheek against his hand, continuing to gaze at Keith. Tearing his eyes away, he looks down at the notebook on his desk and remembers the note that Hunk gave to him.

He takes out the note and unfolds it, gaze slipping up to Keith—who is still smiling but his attention is on his notebook—and then to the teacher before focusing back down on the note. He takes notice of the hastily written penmanship that Hunk isn’t exactly known for. He normally writes in perfect capitalization and takes his time so he won’t misspell anything.

This note, however, is something else. Capitalization and some punctuation marks have been thrown out the window for faster writing, smudges are everywhere, poorly-executed erasing jobs, and some words and letters were even scribbled out.

_“k so listen_

_“after you went and ran upstairs, keith was getting ready to follow after you, like, legit almost climbed over the couch. I managed to get him to stay saying youd rather be left alone when youre like this and then he just stared at me and asked me if this happens a lot and I had said no, not usually, but I told him that when you get like this youd rather be alone. I didnt tell him you have problems with anxiety or anything, so dont worry there.”_

Next to the last sentence is a smiley and a heart, and Lance huffs a soft breath through his nose, smiling and thanking Hunk.

_“but anyway, you shouldve seen his face, lance.”_

Face, here, is underlined twice.

_“I swear he had the most worried look on his face and he kept fidgeting his phone in his hand and looking up at the door and back down at his phone. this was after we all had text you and we even paused the timer for you and was just waiting bc I knew you would come out when you were ready + I didnt wanna make a scene, yknow?_

_“so after a little bit he scoots over on the couch and goes to get up and I tried to stop him and he was like ‘I cant sit here knowing someone i like is having a breakdown or something’ and, lance, he was red as a tomato and avoiding any eye contact and what he said was hushed so pidge didnt even hear this!”_

Lance blinks, having quit reading even though there’s a sentence or two left, and slowly looks up at Keith who is focusing his attention on the teacher with such concentration, Lance is happy he didn’t notice. He pulls in a stuttering breath through his parted lips and slowly looks back down at the note, his heart loud in his ears.

_“so where im getting with this is: dont worry about it. trust me when I say itll work out.”_

Lance takes a moment and rereads what Hunk says Keith had said, and then reads it a third time. He folds the note gently and clasps it between both of his hands. He brings them to his mouth, resting his lips against the knuckle of a pointer finger and his chin resting against the pads of his thumbs; he looks as though he’s praying. He side-glances over at Keith.

After a few moments of just watching Keith and caressing the note almost reverently between his hands, he finally sits back in his chair and tucks Hunk’s note gently into his notebook.

He spends the rest of the class doodling in his notebook. Hearts, Litten, K+L… He hopes none of his siblings find out about this.

 

* * *

 

Keith stops him before he makes a dash for the exit. The hand on his wrist is distracting and he can’t think past ‘oh god.’

Then Keith smiles, friendly and shy, and Lance swallows a little audibly. Not loud, but enough for him to wince at how obvious that was. His eyes glance down at where Keith is still holding his wrist, giving it more pressure for the briefest second, before dropping his hold. Lance looks back up at Keith’s face, not caring at this point that his face feels warm, and feels the corner of his lips twitch before he’s returning the smile.

He watches as Keith shifts his weight and looks around before training his gaze at the door. “I was wondering… if you were serious about getting bubble tea?”

He said it in a hushed tone so only he and Lance could hear it, their classmates too busy getting up and shuffling to the door to really clue in on what they’re discussing. Lance blinks, eyebrows lifting in surprise. He doesn’t miss the faint pink bringing color to Keith’s cheeks or the way Keith brings his hand to rest against the strap of his satchel, thumb rubbing against his finger.

“Um… yeah,” Lance breathes, his voice not really sounding like it actually came from him. Kind of sounds like he’s in a bubble… or underwater… and his voice, although breathy like a whisper, sounds distorted. “I was—uh… _am_ serious,” he clears his throat and stands a bit straighter, one hand resting against his desk and the other limp at his side.

He watches Keith smile and glance back up at him, blush still there, before turning and heading for the door.

Lance’s eyes follow him until he comes to a stop and turns near the door, looking back at Lance with a tilt to his head.

Kicking himself into gear, Lance scoops up his backpack and catches up with Keith, exiting the classroom after him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, fiddling with his phone.

He feels Keith bump into his shoulder and looks up to see him looking at him with an amused expression.

“Huh?”

Eloquent.

“I _said_ , did you get your dad to replace the filter?” He looks back ahead as they walk, playful smirk on his face.

“Oh! Yeah, he went out and got one and we changed it together,” he nods, easing back into his go-to smirk. “So that’s, like, forty bucks i owe him now.”

Lance smiles, eyes softening as he listens to Keith laugh. The jerk actually stops in the middle of the walk to his locker to bend over and clutch his stomach. He manages to school his expression into somewhat playful annoyance before Keith stands up again and lets his laughter die down a bit, struggling to hold in the smaller chuckles.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t the spark plugs, right?” Keith glances over at him as he strides past. “Those would have cost you more, assuming your dad will want them put in correctly, so you’ll be paying for both labor _and_ parts.”

Lance purses his lips as he attempts to keep the irritated charade up, failing when he feels his lips twitch up in a smile. _This guy…_

“You gonna go around assuming everything now?” Lance asks as he catches up to Keith, coming to a stop beside his locker. He leans against the one next to Keith’s and smirks at him. Keith slides his gaze down and back up to Lance’s face, eyebrow raised. Lance takes note of the challenging glint in Keith’s gray-blue eyes.

Keith purses his lips with a hum as he studies Lance, satchel strap being slowly lifted over his head. “Maybe I will,” came the low reply, a smirk of his own forming on his lips. It’s darker and more… dangerous… than Lance’s own, causing him to falter and his smirk fade.

Keith slides his gaze back to the locker, using his hip and shoving his satchel into the nearly-empty locker. His smirk dissolves into an amused smile, still quirking up in the corner as the smirk threatens to return.

Lance stands there, looking at Keith, wondering what he means by that. _‘Maybe he will…’_ Did that mean...? What would he be assuming? Did Keith assume that Lance had been kidding about the bubble tea date? Did Keith assume that Lance wasn’t serious about thanking him for studying with him and his friends? Did Keith… assume they weren’t actually friends?

He’s caught up in his thoughts, his eyes drifting down to the tiles under their feet. He doesn’t notice that Keith is done and waiting on him, the only hint he gets being a tap to his right arm.

Lance hums, keeping his eyes downcast, head tilting to rest against the locker. When had he crossed his arms...

“Hey, Lance.”

His head snaps up, eyes wide and searching Keith’s face. “Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” Keith had leans against his own locker, mirroring Lance’s stance. His arms are crossed loosely, one leg overlapping the other, his foot close enough that if Lance moves his _just_ a bit, they’d be touching. His head is even tilted toward the locker a bit, a small smile with a fond expression softening his features.

He looks so handsome and he’s not even trying. It’s kind of unfair.

Lance uncrosses his arms and straightens out his NASA shirt before pocketing his hands in his jacket. He straightens away from the locker just in time for some girls to approach, eyes set on Keith.

The other boy closes his eyes, and Lance watches Keith’s eyebrows pinch in the center before he opens his eyes in a very tired glare at the floor. His hands tighten around his biceps and he refuses the look up at a girl who taps him on the shoulder.

“Keith~! I was wondering if you had a date to prom yet?”

Lance’s eyes snap from Keith to the girl with red, nearly straight hair, pulled into a low ponytail. Her bangs are swept across her face and pinned back by a black hair pin. She’s slightly shorter than the two boys, and her friends behind her are holding their breaths, biting their lips as they wait eagerly for Keith’s answer. Her own face is pinched in the center but she wore a proud smirk, her hand that tapped his shoulder now resting against her chest, other hand holding onto a book.

He hears Keith let out a long breath through his nose, drawing Lance’s attention back to him. He had closed his eyes again and he can clearly see an internal fight going on just by his expression.

Lance finds himself holding his own breath in anticipation. He knows Keith doesn’t have a prom date as of yet, but that can all change here and now.

Going off the look Keith is shooting him before sliding his gaze to the gaggle of girls, that wouldn’t be a problem, and Lance lets the oxygen flow into his body again.

“I’m not going.”

Wait—

“Well, why don’t you go with me?”

No, wait—

“Sorry, I already have something planned that week.”

Okay, maybe Lance is just… jumping to conclusions? Has to be… He racks his brain for… what was today? Tuesday? Have they really only been hanging out since yesterday?

He blinks at the floor, the talking around him fading, time slowing.

Last week. What did Pidge say? Something about Rolo and Keith.

Keith _had_ planned on going. Has he changed plans that quick?

Lance supposes he does have the entire weekend to come up with something, if what Keith is telling this girl is true. But Lance doesn’t have time. The rest of the week is only three days out and he still needs to work up courage to ask Keith to be _his_ date.

He comes back to an over-exaggerated whine from the red head, eyes flicking up to her face. She’s pouting but it quickly turns into a sly smile as she leans forward into Keith’s space. He notices how Keith leans further into the locker door.

“How about a date, then? Maybe that would change your mind,” she leans closer, her hand reaching out and settling on Keith’s chest. He scowls and glances down at the touch and back up at her before sliding his eyes over at Lance.

Lance, who’s watching the entire thing play out and no doubt having quite the expression on his face. His eyes widen a fraction when Keith looks at him, and he brings his hand up to clear his throat, a little too loudly.

Schooling his expression, he looks over to the girl who is now in Keith’s _very_ personal bubble. She’s watching Keith’s face until he looks up at Lance and keeps his eyes there. When she notices that his attention is no longer aimed at her, she levels Lance with a pout, manicured eyebrows pinching in the center.

Pushing off the locker, he pulls out his cellphone to feign checking the time. “Sorry to interrupt, but our reservation time’s in about thirty minutes so we need to leave, like, now. Keith?” He pockets the phone and reaches out to take Keith’s hand.

Keith looks relieved and wastes no time in taking Lance’s offered hand.

“Ladies,” Lance smiles in their direction as Keith comes up next to him, gaze down at the floor. He turns and they start to walk, eyes giving way to a hint of possessiveness as his hand leaves Keith’s and settles up over Keith’s shoulders, effectively pulling the other closer.

Several gasps and indignant squawks are heard from the girls and Lance could not be more pleased about that reaction.

He smirks, laughing a little as he closes his eyes, bringing his forehead to rest against Keith’s temple.

Once they turn the corner and are comfortably out of the girls’ eyesight, Lance hesitantly releases Keith.

“Woo man, that was so strange actually watching that happen. Now I know how I must look like when flirting.”

Keith keeps his gaze down and bangs in his eyes so Lance can’t gauge a reaction. Humming, he opens the exit door and holds it for Keith. He can’t help but notice the tips of Keith’s ears are pink as he lets the door swing close.

“I, uh, didn’t overstep anything, did I? I mean,” Lance can feel the rambling creeping on and his face burns a little more with each word that tumbles out, “you looked like you didn’t want that kind of attention. I figured I’d try to get us a quick escape and that was the first thing that came to mind, I’m, uh, sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something…”

“No, uh,” Keith rubs the back of his neck, “thank you… really.”

Lance’s teeth clack when he closes his mouth, his heart fluttering. “W-well, yeah, of course, no problem,” he laughs nervously, slowly leading Keith to his car.

They get to the car and Lance opens the door for Keith with a smile, Keith ducking in and buckling up. Lance slides into the driver’s side and starts the car.

“I just,” he hears, followed by a huff, as he turns to face Keith. “I wish those girls would get the message that I’m… _not_ into them.”

Lance leans back in his chair, facing Keith and giving him his full attention with a concerned frown. “Are they… always like that then?”

“Well… no, but recently they have been and it’s exceedingly annoying.”

Lance hums, nodding and looking away. He remembers being so jealous of Keith for having all of the girls around him… Now he understands that Keith doesn’t want them around, rather, wishes they wouldn’t come near him at all. He sighs, turning back to the wheel and drumming his fingers against the leather.

“I’m just really relieved you were there,” he hears Keith mumble. He looks up with wide eyes.

“Oh, uh… Yeah, I… yeah,” he puts the car in park and stubbornly looks out to the parking lot, puts the car in drive, and heads out. He _really_ wants to tell Keith that he’d be there, if he wants him to, to drive off the stubborn chicks. To be there in the form of his boyfriend. “So what are you into then? Quieter types?”

Lance raises an eyebrow and refuses to look back at Keith as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Well, I guess you could say that. Shy types. Shy but fun.”

Lance can hear the careful picking of Keith’s words as he spoke slowly. He nods and hums. “Yeah, I guess so. I kind of like the pretty types and the confident ones,” he explains in turn. “Just recently I’m finding out I like shy, smart, and considerate guys, too.”

He blushes a bit as he comes to a stoplight and refuses to look at Keith.

“Yeah, tastes can change,” Keith breathes, sounding fond, tempting Lance to look, but he doesn’t. Eyes on the road. He’s a good driver.

“Ha-have you had bubble tea before?” Redirection. Good one, Lance.

“Oh, no, I haven’t.”

“Then this is going to be really good. My personal favorite are the ones that burst in your mouth, they’re called ‘popping’ or ‘bursting’ boba.”

“Oh, what flavors do they have?”

“They have all sorts of flavors! What’s your favorite?” Lance takes the turn and parks in front of the cute little cafe with green paint on the windows that says ‘Latte Kitten’ with a cute white cat hanging from the ‘L’.

“Coconut,” Keith answers, ducking into the cafe when Lance holds the door for him.

“Nice. Mine is mango. Reminds me of warm beach sunrises,” he sighs, smiling as they reach the register. He orders a dragon fruit tea with popping mango boba and lets Keith order what he wants. He ends up getting regular black tea with popping coconut boba.

Lance hands her the money before Keith can even reach for his wallet. He pointedly ignores the look Keith undoubtedly gives him and smiles at the cashier. He grabs the change and the order number and leads them to a booth.

“Let me pay you back for mine,” Keith mutters, reaching for his wallet.

“Okay, how about you pick the next place and you pay?” Lance smirks, propping his chin in his hand, elbow on the table.

Keith looks at him, shocked, before sliding into a similar smirk, a blush lightly dusting his cheeks as he looks Lance up and down. “Alright. How about the new _Marvel_ movie?”

Lance groans as Keith snickers. He looks back down at Keith, pout in place before it melts away to a smile as he watches Keith continue to chuckle.

“I’m just kidding, we don’t have to,” Keith says with a few sparse chuckles. He smiles at Lance, eyes dancing.

 _I’m glad I can make him laugh like that. It’s stupidly cute…_ Lance sighs, smiling back. “No, I’d love to. See why you hype over it so much.”

Keith looks away sheepishly, a blush making his cheeks turn pink. He keeps the smile but it turns shy and he looks back at Lance with something that looks like hope in his eyes and it makes Lance feel like it might be the right time to…

“Here’s your tea!”

A tray is set in between them, breaking the little moment they were having. Lance frowns before smiling and thanking the lady as she walks off.

“Well, here’s your boba tea. I hope you like it,” Lance mumbles, grabbing the huge straw and ramming it into the plastic wrapping on top of the cup. “The first time I came here I—”

Lance looks up in time to see Keith looking at the straw and the plastic wrap before gently trying to push the sharp end into the plastic. Well those are two words that don’t belong in the same sentence—Keith and gentle.

Lance raises an eyebrow, hand covering his mouth to hide a snicker before he reaches over and grabs hold of Keith’s straw, effectively holding Keith’s hand. That counts as holding hands, right?

Keith gasps, looks up at Lance before back down at where their hands are. Lance swallows and tightens his hold on Keith’s hand.

“You—you’ve got to, um…” Lance demonstrates where he was going with that sentence by raising their hands—the straw—and bringing it down quick. The satisfying _‘plop’_ the plastic makes letting them know they did it.

Lance simultaneously wants to remove his hand and keep it there for a long time. He rubs his thumb over Keith’s knuckles before letting go with a smile, tucking his hand to his chest as he leans against the table. He takes a sip of his tea and groans. When was the last time he and Hunk came here? He needs to fix that.

He watches Keith lick his lips before bringing the straw up to his mouth and taking a sip. His eyes widen and he swallows. “Oh my god…”

“Right?” Lance grins, watching Keith take another sip, eyelashes fluttering as he groans. _Dang, he’s so pretty._

Lance brings his cup to his mouth to drink as he continues to watch Keith have his mind blown.

Keith pops off the drink, now half-empty, and stares at Lance with wide eyes. Lance cocks an eyebrow in question.

“I’m glad you took me here, this is… probably the best discovery since… since… well, I can’t think of it right now but, yes, this is good.”

Lance fights the chuckle threatening to fall from his lips as a blush works it’s way up Keith’s neck and cheeks. He smiles warmly instead and checks this date off as a success. Not labelling it a ‘first date’ yet because they’re not technically dating, and he wants them both to be on even terms.

“I’m glad.” Lance takes another sip, loving how the dragon fruit tea mixes delightfully with the mango. “Oh,” he remembers today is Tuesday, and tomorrow they have another study session. “Since tomorrow is wednesday, you’re welcome to, um, come study with us again if you want to.”

He watches Keith’s face fall before he looks down and shields his expression from Lance’s view.

“I’d love to but… Shiro is taking me to, uh, to see my dad’s grave actually. Tomorrow’s his… well…”

Lance nods, understanding. Keith doesn’t have to finish that sentence for Lance to know he died however many years ago.

“H-hey, it’s okay! You’re always welcome to join, and I understand. Um…” Lance bites his lip and plays with the plastic wrapping on his cup. “I want you to know I’m here for you if you want to—want to talk or… vent,” Lance sighs inwardly, turning his cup in his hand before bringing it back to his mouth. His face burns and he refuses to look away from his cup.

He hears a small sound like a puff of air before he hears Keith speak. “I appreciate that, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://gravastellar.tumblr.com/)


End file.
